Next Generation: Tomb of the Founders
by ArielSprite
Summary: Another adventure begins. New friendships are formed, more villains are unveiled and Al Potter is right at the centre in a deadly battle. With a secretive teacher, a thousand year old mystery, a family feud and a trio of assassins Al will need his best friends by his side. And as if his first year at Hogwarts wasn't enough, Al is being watched from the shadows…
1. The Castle Upon the Hill

**Disclaimer: Technically I don't own some of the characters in this story, but seeing as it's Next Generation I feel that pretty much everything in cannon ;)**

Prague's streets are a fantasia scarcely touched by the twenty-first century – or the twentieth or nineteenth, for that matter. It is a city of alchemists and dreamers, its medieval cobbles once trod by golems, mystics, invading armies. Tall houses glowed goldenrod and carmine and eggshell blue, embellished with Rococo plasterwork and capped in roofs of uniform red. Baroque cupolas were the soft green of antique copper and Gothic steeples stood ready to impale fallen angels. The wind carried the memory of magic, revolution, violins and the cobbled lanes meandered like creeks. Thugs wore Mozart wigs and pushed chamber music on street corners, and marionettes hung in windows, making the whole city seem like a theatre with unseen puppeteers crouched behind velvet.

Above it all loomed the castle on the hill, its silhouette as sharp as thorns. By night it was floodlit, bathed in eerie light, and this evening the sky hung low, full bellied with snow, making gauzy halos around the street lamps.

It is here that our story starts, in the early hours of the morning when all the world slumbered. Deep beneath the bowels of this castle stood two figures watching as the rest of world carried on with their boring, meaningless lives. Nobody knew that they were there, and no one ever would. In a thousand years they would still be there, watching, and waiting, seeking their escape from their living tomb.

A fire crackled in the wrought iron grate sending shadows dancing all over the already dark room. It was not an unpleasant room. It was a large, rectangular room with a high ceiling and two of the four walls were lined in bookshelves filled with books. Most were bound in worn black or red leather though some were green or brown. Each one had a slightly threadbare spine with the title of the book and the author's name written on it in faded gold writing. A large mahogany desk stood by the large, floor to ceiling windows that took up the entirety of one of the smaller end walls. Hand drawn maps were inked onto ancient parchment that was pinned to the wall above the desk. Plans of the globe, the stars and many other strange images were mapped out onto the same type of paper.

The wallpaper was faded, not worn, in pristine condition but old. The inhabitants of the room had kept it clean but it was growing old; everything in the room was. Should anyone discover this place, unlikely though that was, they would find thousands of pounds worth of antiques in there. Trinkets were just littered around the room. A walnut wood side table had a solid gold chess set and two crystal wine glasses, one half full of white wine, on it. The mantle above the fireplace didn't have photographs like most do; instead it was covered by statues, some gold like the chess set, others made of silver and bronze like the elegant renditions of the goddess Artemis and the great hero Perseus. At both ends of the mantle were a set of Chinese vases, white bone china with blue symbols and shapes and patterns painted over it. A large tapestry depicting the twelve tasks of Hercules hung over the chimney breast catching the light from the fire, the bright colours not faded like everything else in the room, the gold embroidery shimmering in the light.

The leather sofa was the only thing in the room that looked well used. Mostly because it was. There was a coffee table in front of it, polished to perfection, without a single mark upon its surface; just like every other piece of furniture in the room. On top of the coffee table was yet another set of crystal wine glasses, this time both were full of a clear claret liquid. Next to the glasses stood a large bottle of the finest red wine found in the world. It was corked, but through the translucent glass the volume of the liquid only reached halfway.

Three fingers were drumming on the coffee table. They were long, thin and elegant. Each nail was perfectly manicured and each of the coffee coloured fingers was decorated with a series of gold and jewelled rings, a slightly tinny sound coming from them as they hit the table. The woman that the fingers belonged to was perched at the edge of her seat on the sofa, leaning forward in both eagerness and anticipation, her almond shaped eyes cold as steel and hungry for something, something in the mirrors, something long gone, but something that was coming.

A larger, calloused hand came down upon it; effectively stopping the tapping. The woman scowled slightly, her upper lip curling in distaste but one look from her companion and she simply sighed, relaxing back into the sofa slightly, her other hand tapping nervously on the leather.

"Stop."

The order was quiet but powerful and the woman stiffened as she stopped, just as her fingers were about to hit the leather once more. Her hand hovered there indecisively for a moment before she rested it in her lap with a slight glower upon her face.

"How much longer?" she demanded.

"Not long," the man replied with a smirk.

In the firelight his cold, hard features were softer and far less cruel than usual. He was handsome in a harsh, malicious way, with a chiselled jaw; a bent nose that looked like it had been broken several times and unforgiving eyes the colour of steel. There was the slightest trace of half-day stubble across his jaw and his dark hair was slicked back Italian style. Scars littered his face, small, barely noticeable ones changed into more noticeable ones and those turned into ones that were so eye catching it was unlikely that anyone would look beneath them to the face that belonged to a man.

Oh, how long he had waited for this. His revenge would be so very, very sweet. It had been over four hundred years since he had been imprisoned here. This room, those windows with their fake images, so tantalizing, so taunting, the high ceiling and all those books. He hated it all. The solid gold chess set, the crystal wine glasses, everything about this vile room was a taunt. No matter how much wealth he was given, no matter how many precious antiques had been collected in his name, he would never be able to escape. Never. That was what _she_ had planned; he was sure of that.

So long. So very long had he been here. Never aging. Never growing old. Waiting, watching, as the rest of the world grew and thrived, technology moving on, there was so much that he had missed while he was in here.

Rain. That was what he missed most about the outside world. It was such a tiny thing, little drops of water tracing their way down his face, his back, whatever. It gave him a release. Something that his sister would never understand. It was something that he would never understand. All he knew was that he wanted to feel the rain upon his face again. He wanted, no, _needed_, to be free. He had sat, and waited, for four hundred years. He had watched the world go by, promising himself that when the day came, when _they_ came, when he was free, he would make them regret it.

He doubted that anyone even knew that they were down here. His captors were surely dead by now and it was unlikely that they had told anyone. No, the only way he would ever feel the rain upon his face again was if his plan came off. He had sulked for half a century when he was first imprisoned; but then, with the help of his darling sister, he had begun to tweak things in the mortal world. He had little power over them, but every now and again a weak minded, weak willed, pathetic little human would stumble across the entrance to his prison and he could, not control them exactly, more, suggest things. Whisper in their ears, change their minds. It never lasted long, but in the time he was given he could always complete another step in his great game.

And the end was coming. He knew that. He had planned it. All that was left was the final piece. Well, final three pieces. Final three people. People were trickier to filter into plans. You could never tell what they might do, how they would react to certain situations. These three were some of the trickiest. He had been watching them since they were born but he wouldn't know until they making the decision what they would choose.

Hopefully they would do what he wanted, but hope wasn't enough. He had been sat there, in this very seat, with nothing to do except mess around with people's lives in a desperate attempt to be freed. It had been so long since he had been defeated and captured. He had spent so many years carefully chipping away at the chains that bound him. Soon though, soon he would be free. And then nothing and nobody would him then. Oh how those puny humans would regret imprisoning him.

The mirrors on the wall gleamed in the firelight. Every now and again they seemed to flicker as the flames in the fireplace rose slightly. The images in the mirrors had changed over time. Prague had changed little over time. For many years he had been stuck watching as the world went by and one city barely changed. It had been terribly boring and so frustrating. The only people he could hope to suggest things to had been Czechs or tourists that came to the castle.

But then, barely more than a decade ago the images had changed. Instead of the usual, tiresome scenes of the Czech countryside and the city of Prague, all those tourists and natives, the images had been of three children. The three children who would set him free.

How he had celebrated. It was the breakthrough that he had waited four hundred years for. Now he could watch them, wait as they grew older and the time came closer. And it was coming. Soon he would be free and then it would begin…

For now, however, he would watch. Nothing would stop him. Fate was on his side. It had been ordained in the stars and he would be freed. He couldn't wait…

"Look!" his sister hissed, drawing his attention back to the mirrors.

There was one for each of the children, each of his saviours. None of them had any idea that they had been chosen for this task. No clue that one day they would unleash death upon the earth. One day, they would set him free, and when that day came…

"Are you even listening to me?" the woman demanded. The man sighed, glowering at his _darling_ sister. His imprisonment was only part of the punishment. When he had been captured and sentenced Miriam, the vile witch, had decided that spending the rest of eternity watching the rest of the world go by wasn't enough. Instead he had to spend all eternity with the one person he found most annoying.

"Of course I am _sister_," he replied, through gritted teeth. His attention was now fully upon the mirrors. While it was dark in the city of Prague the sky over England was shot through with the pale blue and silvery greys of the dawning day. Daylight filtered through the windows of the three sleeping children in the shining glass of the mirrors.

The first mirror showed a large room with a huge four poster bed, a matching mahogany dresser and a large desk with the stationary neatly organised. The grey silk hangings around the bed matched the grey and white sheets with a large falcon printed on them. The bedside table to the left of the bed had a large jug of water and a silver goblet resting upon it while the table to the right had a stack of books, most of them with leather bindings. While most of the room was perfectly orderly clothes were strewn across the wooden trunk at the base of the bed and strangely enough there was a broom handle poking out from beneath the bed. Shelves were filled with books and trinkets, tiny trophies and little toys. The walls had originally been a pale blue colour but the child that the room belonged to had papered the walls with so many posters that very little could still be seen. An oak wood door was half open and some light filtered in, showing it to be a massive walk in wardrobe.

On the windowsill the child had left open a mahogany box lined with a velvet cushion. Resting on the cushion were three small golden balls. They were polished to perfection, a much loved present, placed in such a way that when the curtains were open even slightly they seemed to glow golden, as they did now. The pale light from the breaking day that entered into the room through a crack in the heavy curtains creating a halo around the sleeping boy's pale head, his eyes closed contentedly in a deep sleep.

The second mirror showed a room much smaller than the last and while the first had quite clearly belonged to a boy, this one definitely belonged to a girl.

The walls were far more vibrant, a bright shade of turquoise, and though it was smaller and far messier it looked far more lived in, and homely. One wall had been painted over with beautiful flowers, strange symbols and a number of sights including a massive waterfall, the leaning tower of Pisa and the pyramids, drawing all the attention in the room to that one wall.

Resting against the opposite wall was an old style wrought iron bed painted stone wash white. The duvet and pillowcases had peacock feathers printed in every colour of the rainbow and the girl had tied bright silk scarfs around the bedposts.

A white dresser matching the bed was next to the open window. The mirror glinted, spilling light onto the girlish items. Nail varnishes, hairspray, hair clips, perfume, jewellery and other various bits and bobs belonging to a normal eleven year old girl were littered about flat surface. On the other side of the window a bookshelf had been built into an alcove in the wall and every shelf was lined with books of every shape, size and colour. In addition to the books on the shelf, many others were stacked randomly around the room. Paperbacks, hardbacks and even some leather bound books were scattered everywhere, peeking out from under the bed, in and on the bedside table and even wedging open one of the white doors that took up an entire side of the room, revealing it to be a wardrobe with clothes literally spilling out.

Wind chimes clinked together in the soft breeze and the curtains rustled. The window had been pushed open and the pinks and oranges of the sunrise flooded in. The beads threaded onto the bright blue dream catcher that hung above the bed clicked as they tapped the wall behind them. A soft moan issued from the mouth of the girl who was stirring from her slumber.

The last mirror was what had caught the attention of the woman. The room shown in it belonged, like the first one, to a boy. It was bigger than the girl's room but slightly smaller than the first boy's. Much like the girl's room it was rather messy, but it had an almost unlived in quality to it.

The walls were a bright kingfisher blue and while several posters adorned the walls they were mostly blank. The bed was made of a golden wood and the sheets were dark blue. A desk stood by the window that was facing west, no sign of the sun, it was so over clouded that there was little chance of that anyway, and pencils, parchment and a number of quills were littered across it. Bottles of ink stood empty and half empty, and one had been knocked over, the dark ink soaking into the parchment and the wood of the desk. Tiny figurines rested on the bedside table and on the desk and many had been thrown on the floor. Old clothes were everywhere, abandoned and unloved. Books and magazines were strewn across the floor and propped up by the closed wardrobe door was a broomstick with a polished wooden handle and a tail of twigs that had most likely been neat once but due to time and use, had become untidy and bent.

While the room was dreadfully messy, it wasn't that which had caught the attention of the woman. It was the boy sleeping in the bed that was at the eye the storm, so to speak. He was tossing and turning, his dark hair rumpled and untidy, sticking up everywhere, his eyelids flickering open every now and again to reveal vivid green eyes.

The boy's mouth was moving, words rushing out deliriously. One of his pale arms was sticking out in the air, his index finger drawing something. A picture, no, he was trying to write something.

"What's he writing?" the woman demanded, utterly frustrated. The man looked closer, desperately seeking any recognition of the letters that the boy was writing but to his dismay he couldn't make out a single one.

"I don't know," he scowled, annoyed with himself, the boy and his sister.

"Why are you even bothering with the boy?" his sister asked. "You know he will never free us. Just look at his family. Sanctimonious, pious, noble heroes to the core. He'll never turn."

"You know sister," the man hissed dangerously. "I get incredibly bored with you doing this. The boy won't know what he's doing, and besides, that family may think that they're doing the best thing for him, but they can't see what I do. One day they'll push him too far and he'll release me!"

"Us, they'll release us," his sister corrected.

"Of course," the man replied smoothly, his sister none the wiser to his true intentions.

She scowled, her cold eyes catching the curl of the lip that her brother had showed when she corrected him. He thought that he was so much cleverer than her, oh, she would show him. He would regret trying to leave her out of his plans, and she would make sure that he knew how much she hated him.

In the mirror the boy was tossing and turning. His dark hair was becoming even more ruffled and his breath more ragged.

The man shook his head, a nasty smile stretching across his scarred face.

"Oh, Albus Potter," he laughed cruelly. "A great destiny awaits you. The battle for your soul has just begun!"

Back in England, many miles away the vivid green eyes belonging to the son of a hero snapped open and Albus Potter sat straight up in bed, as if he had been electrocuted. His normally pale cheeks were flushed and his eyes were wide, wild and scary. Ragged breaths were pulled from his chest, his heart beating painfully fast. A sheen of sweat coated both his forehead and the palms of his hands. His sheets were not wet but he had the strangest sensation, just like the one that came after wetting the bed. As his racing heart subsided his dream came back to him and the young wizard attempted to assure himself that it had just been a nightmare.

Seven hundred miles away the whole of Prague sat up in their beds as laughter that could only be described as pure evil emanated from the castle upon the hill.


	2. Moving Diagonally

**Once again I must disclaim that fact that Harry Potter, all of the characters in this world, except for the ones you don't recognise which are mine, are not mine. :(**

Happiselwood wasn't a very big, or a very famous place. It wasn't a seaside resort or an industrial town and while it had a name that only residents could pronounce correctly, it wasn't one of those quaint little villages, all quirkiness and quiet charm. Instead, it was just a tiny village in the North East of the Devonshire County, too far away from the beach to have the charismatic seclusion and ocean on the doorstep that so many people craved, and not close enough to the nearest town to be one of those historical villages where every building was protected and the residents could look down their noses on the occupants of the modern town that had been built comparatively recently.

The four hundred and fifty seven people who lived there were very happy with it not being a large village, a famous place or even a quirky little place. A few shops, a pub, a doctor's surgery, a post office, a little bookshop and a bus stop were all the services that it needed.

As it was a small village, everybody, from the youngest children to the oldest pensioners, knew the business of every other resident. The was the landlady of the local pub, Siobhan Cassidy, had a particular ear for gossip, and, every night a crowd would gather to hear the scandalous rumours that had been discovered. For a small place it had a large collection of rather disreputable people. Scandal was more at home in Happiselwood than it was in London, or New York, or even Essex.

For instance, when Fiona Wilkinson began an affair with her husband's brother, the whole village knew within a week. It had been Dee Dee Smith, the owner of the local café, who had told everyone about Carly Johnston's secret child with her stepfather. And when Aaron Fletcher had been murdered by his own sister so that she could be together with his girlfriend Jess, well, that had certainly been talked about over many beers, glasses of wine and several vodkas over at the pub. Needless to say, people with secrets weren't uncommon in town. People with secrets that nobody knew, well, that was almost unheard of in Happiselwood.

There was only one family that nobody really saw and nobody really knew. They lived in the old farm house right on the outskirts of town. It wasn't a huge house, but it had rather a lot of land, and the entire village was surprised when a relatively young couple arrived in Happiselwood with a baby in tow. The woman, with her flaming red hair, was quite obviously pregnant, five or six months perhaps. The man wasn't tall, and he wasn't handsome in the same way that most people found attractive, but there was a quality about him. A sort of aura that nobody could place. Something strong, and brave, something hopeful. He had purchased the property off young Kyle Simmons, the grandson of old famer Simmons, who had left him the farm in his will. Neither man intended for it to be a farm, but the new owner of Tannor Farm didn't mind paying a huge price for a comparatively small farm with a lot of land that needed rather a lot of work.

When the couple moved in, the rest of the villagers expected them to be down in the pub and in the village shops almost every day. But they weren't. They kept mostly to themselves, only coming into the village once or twice a month, never buying much though. Occasionally they would come into the pub for lunch but other than that, they were never seen.

It wasn't until the oldest child was old enough to go to school that the villagers learned anything about the family. The boy who had just been a baby when he first arrived in the village with his parents was called James Sirius Potter. He was a strange child, but once the villagers had met the other two Potter children they considered young James relatively normal. He had the mischievous spirit that came from being loved greatly, and while he had a certain disregard for rules there was something endearing about him.

The same went for the youngest in the Potter family. Her name was Lily, and while on occasion she could be sweet, kind and delicate, much like the flower that she was named after, a more appropriate name for her might have been Venus flytrap. James fondly referred to her as tiger-Lily, but the final Potter child, Albus, always called her Lily, most of the time his tone tinged with annoyance.

Albus was certainly an odd child. He was the strangest of the lot, the only things he shared in common with his siblings was the slight frame, and with his brother, the same dark, messy hair. His piercing green eyes were his most noticeable feature. They could bore into you, the sensation of all your secrets, all your thoughts and even you soul being pulled out. He was a lot quieter than his peers. While they were content to run around screaming, playing games and having fun, Albus Potter preferred to sit inside, absorbed in a good book, his intense eyes sweeping the pages and the landscapes surrounding him. There was something about the eyes of Albus Potter. Something that no one could put their finger on.

Mr and Mrs Potter were no less strange than their children. They were never at home during the week when people came to call, and yet nobody ever saw them driving out of the village to go to work. According to their children Mr Potter did some sort of work for the government while his wife was a sports journalist for a newspaper. Nobody knew anything about the Potters and despite the burning interest the entire village held, they were perfectly content to keep their secrets.

There was, however, one man in the village, a strange man, somebody that they all feared, who knew the truth about the Potters. He had been the first to meet them, and it was he who had told them about the old farmhouse that would become their home. Every time the Potters came into the village he was there, watching the family of wizards as they went about their daily business.

Tannor Farm may not have been the biggest of houses, but it had a lot of land and the old farmhouse was beautiful in a strange, rustic, old-style manner. It was an L-shaped property, with just the two floors. The walls were made of large, grey slabs of stone, worn away slightly over time. Grey slate tiles, all lined up neatly made up the roof, though parts of it were obscured by Lichen yellow moss. The wooden door had been painted red several years ago and was fading slightly, flakes of paint chipped off in places. A golden door knocker in the shape of a lion's head rested about three quarters of the way up. Though the rest of the house hadn't been touched up in many a year the knocker gleamed brightly, as if it had been polished mere hours beforehand. The glass eyes of the house shone quietly in sunlight and reflected the twinkling stars at night. Ivy grew up one of the smaller sides of the house and crept round to the back. The green stalks clung to the stone and the curved leafs dangled down slightly. The chipped white paint of the windowsills and the clear glass of the single window that it surrounded seemed very out of place in the jungle of ivy.

It was this window, looking out for miles over the rolling hills of the countryside, all the way to the stormy green sea, that an eleven year old Albus Potter was sat beside, his pale cheek pressed against the cold glass, the black of his hair flat for once. The pale dawn light spilled into his room, kingfisher blue, making the vibrant walls seem faded.

A sighed escaped his lips, the warm breath coming to a rest on the cold window. A book rested on his lap, the thick parchment of the pages decorated in cursive print and delicately drawn images. Al, as the young boy preferred to be known, ran his fingers over the pages, his green eyes scanning the text, the strange words leaping out at him. He had been in the attic, searching through the old books, toys and clothes that had been stored there when he found it. The book was a huge, leather bound doorstop type, thick, pages and pages of tiny writing. It was the sort of thing Al's cousin Rose aspired to read regularly. Al had always enjoyed a good book, he had always been seen by the villagers as being a bit odd because of that, but the size of the book Al had in his lap was ridiculous.

He couldn't understand a word of it. There was something strange about it though; something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Nobody else seemed to feel the same way about it, though Al knew that there was something wrong with it.

The loud, echoing bang that Al associated with mornings swept through the house. It was unusual for Al to be up before the fireworks went off. On a normal morning it would be the fireworks that woke him up, as peculiar as it might sound, but it was the truth. For some unknown reason, though Al speculated that it was because he had been dropped on his head multiple times at birth, his older brother James enjoyed setting fireworks off at ridiculous hours. Why he had to be related to utter idiots was beyond Al, but really, he would have thought that his parents would have realised that if they took the fireworks away, or locked James in a cupboard, then they wouldn't wake up stupidly early every morning. Al personally preferred the cupboard option, but thought it best not to mention it to his parents. For some reason his father had a thing about cupboards.

Al shook his head in an attempt to clear out the cobwebs that had decided to store themselves there. He hopped off the little alcove seat and waded his way through the junk that littered his room. Al wasn't usually this untidy, but honestly, he had more than enough on his mind, and tidying his room wasn't top of his priority list, especially not when it was pointless chore that would just be reversed by James at the first opportunity.

After searching through a pile of relatively clean clothes Al managed to find a pair of jeans and a soft green t-shirt that he could wear without looking like he hadn't slept in them. His hair on the other hand; now that was going to take some work. Al attempted to run a brush through his hair, but after the fourth time that he had to literally wrench it out of the rat's nest he called hair, he gave up. Al sighed as he looked at the dark circles under his eyes in the mirror. The week of restless nights that had succeeded the discovery of the strange book had taken their toll on him.

As a sigh escaped his lips, Al allowed his eyelids to flutter shut. They rested there, unwilling to let the first peaceful moment in more than a week pass them by.

"What are you doing?" a voice from behind him asked, slightly disparagingly. Al let out a small groan as he let his eyes snap open. He turned around and looked at his older brother stood there cockily, a hand on his hip, and a smug smirk spread across his face. Al rolled his eyes and stooped to pick up a battered pair of converse trainers. When he straightened up again he found that James was still stood there, that smarmy look on his face.

"What do you want James?" Al sighed, not in the mood for his brother's games.

"Mum told me to get you up 'cos we're going to Diagon Alley to get new school stuff," James replied sourly before stalking out of the room. Al smirked, taking his reaction to mean that his older brother had been well and truly told off for some reason or another.

His smirk faded when he realised what James had just said. Going to Diagon Alley could only ever mean one thing. Shopping.

Al loathed shopping. It was just one of those things that only girls seemed to like. His mother and sister enjoyed it to no end while he just found the whole ordeal tiresome. While Lily and Mum liked wandering around aimlessly for hours in shops that quite blatantly would not sell what they needed, never buying anything in these shops, just looking, or as he was informed snottily by Lily when he asked why, "window shopping", he preferred to get in, get what he needed and get out as quickly as possible. Even James enjoyed the trips to Diagon Alley, just so long as he could look in at Quality Quidditch Supplies or Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, his two favourite shops. Al enjoyed the fast paced broomstick sport of Quidditch and all of the extremes that came with it, but he would much rather play it, than drool over a set of gloves that had been signed by some second rate player that had only gotten onto the team because he was married to the team's manager. The same went for WWW. Al got that it was brilliant, because it was. His Uncle George, the proprietor of the store, was brilliant. Honestly though, he would much prefer for the brilliance in pranking to be sold to other customers who could terrorise their families, instead of it being applied to winding him up.

Apparently though, needing a uniform and other equipment for the new school year made shopping a necessary evil. Al wished that all the shopping would be magically done, but he knew that that wasn't how magic worked; sadly. Al sighed and began to make his way back downstairs.

When he reached the kitchen, which was by no means an easy feat considering the amount of toys, books and for some strange reason photo frames, some of them cracked, others complete, Al found that his parents and siblings were already there, waiting for him impatiently. Al inwardly smirked at the thought. It felt rather nice to be able to take his time, eat breakfast, and actually enjoy it for once; all the while having the excuse that everyone else had woken him up far too early at least three times a week.

Keeping this thought in mind Al leisurely made his way over to the toaster, popped a slice of bread in it and turned it up as hot as it would get. He then made his way over to the fridge, grabbed a jar of blackberry jam and then a knife from the cutlery draw. He leaned against the counter, tapping the steel against the marble counters, an innocent smile on his face as he ignored their grouchy expressions.

Once the toast had popped up, practically burned to a crisp, Al coated it in a thick layer of jam before taking a large bite out of it. He chewed slowly, savouring the sweet taste of satisfaction that came from making James, Lily and Mum suffer for waking him up so early on a regular basis. When he had finished he brushed the crumbs of his t-shirt and put the knife in the sink.

"So…" he grinned. "You ready to go shopping?"

"Finally," James muttered, glaring at his younger brother. Al smiled sweetly.

"Shall I get the floo powder?" he asked. Dad rolled his eyes but nodded, keeping one eye on Mum and her steely nutmeg gaze.

The family of five traipsed through to the living room and stood in front of the fireplace. Al reached up for a small, polished wooden box that rested upon the mantelpiece. He flipped open the lid to reveal a glittery, silver powder. Al held it out to his mother first and she took a handful before making sure that Lily, James and Al himself each did the same. Dad took the box off Al and grabbed a handful too before shutting it and placing it back on the mantel.

"You first Al," Mum told him sternly. Al would have rolled his eyes, but seeing as he had already pushed his luck a bit he didn't want to be liable to make her explode. Though to be quite honest, at the rate he was going all Al would have to do to set her off was cough.

He had to stoop to get into the fireplace properly. Even though he was rather small and skinny for his age, the fireplace wasn't enormous and so it was a bit of a squeeze. Just before he released the handful of glittering silver powder he cried clearly:

"Diagon Alley!"

The emerald flames engulfed him. They weren't hot but they gave Al the strangest sensation. It felt as though he was being sucked down a giant drain. He was spinning very fast - the roaring in his ears was deafening -he tried to keep his eyes open but the whirl of green flames made him feel sick - something hard knocked his elbow and he tucked it in tightly, still spinning and spinning - now it felt as though cold hands were slapping his face - squinting through his eyelids he saw a blurred stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of the rooms beyond - his toast was churning inside him - he closed his eyes again wishing it would stop, and then –

He fell forward, his hands reaching out to break his fall, the hard slate of the stone floor of the Leaky Cauldron pub cold against his palms. Al winced in pain before scrambling out of the way. Knowing Lily and James either one of them would land badly and end up on top of him.

Less than a minute later he was proven correct as James came flying out of the fireplace, rolled out for several metres and crashed straight into someone's table. Al rolled his eyes and sent the four witches sat at the table an apologetic smile as he dragged his brother off the floor and turned back to the fireplace where Lily, Mum and Dad were stood, brushing ash off their clothes.

"Hurry up you two!" Mum snapped at the two boys. Both of them rolled their eyes as soon as she turned her back but quickly followed after her as she marched out of the main area of the pub, flashing a grin at the landlady Hannah as they passed.

Al was rather glad to be out of there. The pub always went silent when his dad entered. Nobody would tell him why though. Al knew that his father had a lot of influence at the ministry, as head of the Auror office and personal friend of the minister he quite rightly would. But even with that, Al had never understood why places went silent when they walked in and apparently, his parents didn't think that he needed to know. Al sighed at the thoughts as he followed the rest of his family through the bar and into a small, walled courtyard where there was nothing but a dustbin and a few weeds.

"Now then," Mum began bossily. Al's brain immediately switched off, paying more attention to his father as he counted three bricks up from the dustbin and then two across. He tapped the worn brick gently with his wand and then stood back.

The brick he had touched quivered – it wriggled – in the middle, a small hole appeared – it grew wider and wider – mere moments later they were facing an enormous archway, big enough for any person, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

Al might have grown up in this world, but even as they stepped through the archway and Al looked over his shoulder to see the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall he knew that he would never get over the amazement that came with entering Diagon Alley.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons – All Sizes – Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver – Self Stirring – Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them. Al knew that he would need one, it said so on his school list.

Sometimes Al wished he had about eight more eyes. He turned his head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping.

It had always been a fascination of Al's. Even at home, in Happiselwood, nobody was normal. They couldn't do magic like he could. They were muggles. But here, in Diagon Alley, well, normal witches and wizards went about doing their shopping in peace. No strange occurrences happened while they were shopping. They didn't have the same issues with siblings as he did, and sometimes it was nice to watch these people going about their business and pretend that he was part of their family.

Outside the Apothecary, one of Al's personal favourites, was a group of boys who looked a year or so older than James. They were bent double with laughter, and in the hand of one of the boys was a bag of what looked like Weasleys Wizard Wheezes products.

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium – Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Al was rather familiar with it. As a Christmas present eight months earlier he had been allowed to choose an owl. Al had decided on a beautiful Finnish Silver, with delicate silver and white feathers and brilliant amber eyes. He had eventually decided on the name Titania, thinking that the name suited his new owl.

Several boys of about Al's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. No doubt James would join them later, if their mother permitted it. There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments that Al had no clue how to use, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon...

Towering above all the other little shops was a huge snowy white building. Standing next to the burnished bronze doors, dressed in a uniform of scarlet and gold was a goblin. He was perhaps a head shorter than Al, with a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard, and strangely long fingers and feet. Al was rather glad that they weren't going to be entering; goblins gave him the creeps.

Instead they walked straight past the bank, heading towards Madame Malkin's Robes for all occasions. Al had been in there once before, the previous year, when James had needed his first set of school robes.

"Mummy, can we go to see Uncle George?" Lily asked sweetly. Al rolled his eyes. He knew that Lily would certainly get what she wanted. Neither of his parents could say no to her, and while James's complaints would be heard, Lily would still get her way. Al had learned long ago not to bother trying to dissuade his parents when it came to his sister. He would simply never win.

"Of course we can darling," Mum replied, smiling. James looked outraged but bitterly kept his mouth shut. After poking her tongue out at her brothers Lily skipped off to Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, Mum following behind her.

"Can't I go too?" James moaned, knowing that he had a better chance with his father than with his mother. Dad shook his head and began making his way through the crowd to the door.

"Dad!" Al said sharply. Dad turned around and closed his eyes with a groan.

"I'd better go find him," he sighed. "You don't mind getting your uniform alone do you?"

Of course I mind, Al wanted to snap. Everything was always about James and Lily. They always got the most attention. Dad had never taken the time to teach Al how to fly. He had done that for both James and Lily. When James had decided that he wanted to be an Auror Dad had taken him to work and let him play around the ministry. The one time Al had expressed any interest in his work Dad had simply ruffled his hair and said he was too busy. The same afternoon he came home early and took Lily out for ice cream. His mother was, if it was at all possible, worse. All of the time that she didn't spend yelling at James for his pranks was spent spoiling Lily. When they were with their cousins Rose liked to boast about her intelligence, putting everyone, including Al, down. It seemed like he was always going to be outshone in every way.

But of course, Al was better than the petty mindedness that the rest of his family shared, so he smiled and nodded, accepting the money bag off his father, and entered the shop alone.

Madame Malkin was a squat, smiling witch who was rather elderly. She simply beamed when he entered.

"Hogwarts dear?" she had interrupted him as he began to speak. Al nodded, and she led him round the back. "We've a young lady being fitted up for hers as we speak."

Stood on a footstool at the back of the shop with another witch pinning up her robes was a young girl who looked slightly older than Al, but could only be older by perhaps two months at the most. She was very pretty, with long, dark curls pulled up and away from her face, tanned skin and the strangest eyes Al had ever seen. They were huge and framed by thick black lashes, but the irises were gold. Not the same as the golden galleons weighing his money bag down, paler and deeper, flecked with brown and grey.

"Hello," she greeted him in a soft Welsh accent. "I suppose you're starting at Hogwarts too."

"Um, yes," Al confirmed. The girl arched an eyebrow.

"You don't seem very sure," she commented. "But then again, I won't admit to going to a school called Hogwarts either. Back home, if anyone asks where my brother and I are going to school, we just tell them that it's a private school in Scotland." She paused for a moment. "Although that isn't really any better. After all, it is Scotland."

She said it rather scathingly, but Al seemed to detect some humour underneath her words. Enough humour to let a smirk break across his face. While the girl had a harsh, sarcastic nature, he rather liked her.

"Scotland isn't that bad," he grinned. "And Hogwarts is the best school in Britain. My whole family have been there." The girl nodded.

"I'm what you people call… mumble-born?" she said questioningly.

"Muggle-born," Al corrected.

"Right, that," the girl said carelessly. "I only found out about magic two years ago when my brother got his Hogwarts letter. It was an awful shock for my parents, they had no idea about magic. Most of the neighbours just thought that we were very strange. I suppose they're right." She let a wicked grin loose and turned as the witch fitting her robes asked.

"Where are your parents?" Al asked curiously. The girl shrugged in the same careless manner as she spoke.

"My brother went to drool over broomsticks so they're probably attempting to drag him away." She shook her head. "Is everyone in your world obsessed with that game, Kwidditch?"

"It's Quidditch," Al laughed. "And pretty much. Do you not know what it is?" The girl shook her head. "Seriously!"

"Seriously," the girl laughed. "I don't see why everyone is so infatuated with it. It can't be that good can it?" Al just stared. "Apparently it can," the girl rolled her eyes. "I'm Anastasia by the way, Anastasia Goldberg."

"Al Potter," he replied with a soft smile.

"That's you done my dear," Madame Malkin said to him and he hopped off the stool rather regretfully.

"I suppose I'll see you at Hogwarts then," Al sighed, paying for his robes.

"I suppose we shall," Anastasia replied, now being fitted up for a set of shimmering blue dress robes. She smiled slightly, her white teeth gleaming.

Al was rather quiet as he entered Ollivanders with his father and brother. When Al had left Madame Malkin's he had found his father lecturing James opposite the robe shop. It wasn't really an unusual occurrence and so Al merely sighed and sauntered up to them.

They bought school books for both Al and James in a shop called Flourish and Blotts. It was an old shop, it had been there since Dad went to school. The shelves in the shop were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Even James, who barely ever read anything, Al wasn't entirely convinced that he could read, was wild to get his hands on some of the books. Dad had to drag him away from some of the books, though he did inform them both that Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More) by Vindictus Viridian, was in fact useless and there was no point in James trying to steal it.

Dad only laughed when James asked for a solid gold cauldron, even though Al though it was quite cool too, and pointed out that a pewter cauldron was needed. Though he was slightly disappointed by the cauldron, Al did get a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the Apothecary, which, though it smelled horrible, was absolutely fascinating. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Dad asked the woman behind the counter for a supply of basic potion ingredients for Al, and a slightly more complex set for James, Al examined silver unicorn horns at thirty Galleons each and miniscule, glitter-black beetle eyes at seven Knuts a scoop.

Ollivanders was last on their list. The last shop was narrow and slightly shabby. Bright gold letters on a peeling black sign over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that James through himself upon to wait. Al felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library. A thousand questions burst into his mind as he looked at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. The back of his neck prickled, the hairs there standing up. The very dust and silence in the room seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Al jumped. Dad only smiled but there was a crash which Al took to mean as James being shocked too.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like silver moons through the gloom of the shop. Al did wonder whether he was to meet someone with bronze eyes before they day was out. Then he would have a complete medal table.

"Um, hi," Al offered up.

The man looked at Al knowingly.

"Ah, yes," the man nodded. "Yes, yes." I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Albus Potter." It wasn't a question. "You inherited your father's eyes. It wasn't so long ago that you were in here too Mr Potter."

"Indeed it was not," Dad smiled.

"'Twas my uncle who sold you your wand Mr Potter. It has been nearly nineteen years since he retired but he still told me about your wand."

Mr Ollivander moved closer to Al. Al wished that he would blink. Unlike Anastasia's warm golden eyes, Mr Ollivander's silvery ones were a bit creepy.

"Eleven inches of the finest holly with a phoenix feather core. Nice and supple. Powerful, excellent for defensive magic, as you saw."

Dad nodded with a fond look on his face, one hand going to the holster on his arm where he kept his wand.

"Your mother, now, she favoured a redwood wand. Nine inches. Solid. Less power, rather more suited to everyday magic, but still a wonderful wand. Well, I say your mother favoured it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.

Mr Ollivander had come so close that he and Al were almost nose to nose. Al could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.

"Well, now – Mr Potter. Let me see…" He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er – I'm right handed," Al guessed. His father was right handed, and that was the hand with which he held his wand.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Al from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And, of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand. Isn't that right Mr Potter."

It was rather confusing, having Mr Ollivander address both him, and Dad, as Mr Potter.

"He's right Al," Dad grinned. "It doesn't feel quite right with any other wand but your own."

"Why don't you try this one Mr Potter?"

All of a sudden Al realised that the tape measure, which was measuring between his left nostril and his right ear, was doing it on it's own. Mr Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes. He handed the first one to Al.

"Go ahead," he encouraged. "It's Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."

Al took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try -"

Al tried - but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr Ollivander.

"No, no -here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Al tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere - I wonder, now - - yes, why not - unusual combination - larch and phoenix feather, twelve inches, bendy."

Al took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of sparks the same emerald green as his eyes shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Dad whooped and clapped and Mr Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious... "

He put Al's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious..

"Sorry," said Al, "but what's curious?"

Mr Ollivander fixed him with his pale stare.

"Do you know anything about the Chinese phoenix Mr Potter?" Mr Ollivander asked abruptly. Al shook his head.

"No sir," he said, utterly mystified.

"Also known as the Fenghuang, the Chinese Phoenix is the rarest creature on earth. Many, many years ago, wizards who could tame them were known as the Renzhiyin. A group of people so great that even a bird who were greater than humans obeyed them. They were powerful, and no one dared to take them on. But then, one day, a jealous king took all of the phoenixes and slaughtered all but one, along with their tamers. Their now tame nature did not allow them to fight back, and so, the Chinese phoenix died out." He sighed sadly.

"But you said there was one left," Al pointed out.

"Indeed. The jealous king did not kill one of the phoenixes. Instead he kept it captive and it lived for many years, never dying, for a phoenix may never die unless its soul is so broken by death that it must go. The remaining phoenix knew that one day he would be freed and he would soar again."

"Did he?" Al asked eagerly. The story seemed so familiar, yet he could have sworn that he had never heard it before.

"He did Mr Potter. You see, the jealous king had a daughter. She was beautiful, and kind, and when she heard of the phoenix's plight she attempted to free it. But then the king caught her, he locked her away, but the princess was clever. One night she snuck out of the palace with the help of a kitchen boy and found a group of rebels who thought that the key to overthrowing the king was to free the phoenix. And when the princess asked for their help in freeing the bird, they did. The king's tyrannical reign was over, and his daughter began her rule. In thanks for his freedom the last phoenix gave three feathers. One to the princess, one to the leader of the rebels and one to the kitchen boy. It is said that the three of them were granted a powerful magic which they then stored in wands."

"And you think that my wand is one of them?" Al asked in amazement, ignoring the snort from his brother.

"Perhaps," Mr Ollivander said. "But whether that is true or not, we can expect great things from you Mr Potter. Great things indeed."

The warmth spread through his whole arm this time. The magic of the wand was great, and Al knew it. His new wand felt like an extension of his arm, and with the power coursing through it, Al wasn't sure if he liked it or not. He couldn't get the story that Mr Ollivander had told out of his head. It was strange, he knew that story, but from where. Dad had never told him that one, Mum didn't know about it, even Aunt Hermione scoffed at the thought of a Chinese phoenix. But Al was sure that he wasn't crazy. That story was real. There was more too it. And Al knew that tale.

He sighed. His breath drifted across to the cold glass, condensing there. Ollivander's words rang in his ears. What great things would he ever do? And why him? He was just a kid. It should be someone like his father who had great things happen to him. Not Al. He wasn't great.

**A/N Happiselwood is pronounced and read as Hazelwood.**


	3. All That Glitters is Not Gold

**Once again, I sadly inform you that the world of Harry Potter, Hogwarts, and the lake and forest that surround it do not belong to me. ;(**

_The Battle of Hogwarts, also known as the Final Battle of Hogwarts, was a conflict that signified the end of the Second Wizarding War. It took place within the castle and on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. When He Who Must Not Be Named (also known as You Know Who and Lord Voldemort) learned that Harry Potter was in the castle to locate and destroy one of his final Horcruxes, he ordered ever Death Eater and creature that had pledged loyalty to him to attack the school. Dumbledore's Army communicated the need to fight to the Order of the Phoenix and their other allies, leading a large-scale battle. He Who Must Not Be Named was finally defeated by the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, in a duel to the death. It was a decisive victory for the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army. It marked the dissolution of the Death Eaters and the collapse of You Know Who's control over the Ministry of Magic. _

The words swam through his head, blurring into one, with two words being repeated over and over again. Harry Potter. The name of the man who was currently sat less than a meter in front of him driving the small family of five towards King's Cross Station.

Al closed his eyes and leaned his head against the car window. He had never enjoyed car journeys. It was probably the jolting movement of the car that did it for him but there was something distasteful about the conversation and company that was perhaps the true cause.

James, in particular, seemed to have a talent for turning what could be a mildly enjoyable journey, if there was one, to a torturous event. His favourite subjects in the car were Quidditch, how much of a failure Al was, how brilliant he was, his favourite Quidditch team the Appleby Arrows, every embarrassing time in Al's life, the failures of Al (past, present and future) and how excellent he was at everything. Today, the topic of discussion was how exactly Al was going to betray the family. James announced that it would happen mere hours later as Al was a sure bet for Slytherin.

"…you'll have to start eating mice!" James crowed. "That's what snakes eat after all." Al sent him a look, and his older brother simply snorted and returned to his teasing.

"James, give it a rest," Dad told him with a touch of amusement. Al felt his muscles tense. Of course his father would side with James.

Silence had settled in the car for barely thirty seconds before Lily started to complain that she needed to wee "really bad daddy!" James decided to use their parents' distraction to start teasing Al once again.

"Send me a postcard from the dungeons," he snickered. Al gritted his teeth. "I heard that first years in Slytherin have to spend the first week in the mud and slime that hangs around the dungeon."

"Oh shut up!" Al spat. James just smirked and Al sank back into his seat, his shoulders hunched over.

"I hope you packed all of your clothes," James told Al. Confused by this remark Al let the words escape his lips before he could stop them.

"Why would I need to have done that?"

"'Cause once you're in Slytherin you won't be welcome back home," James sniggered.

"Well it's a good thing I won't be in Slytherin then, isn't it," Al snapped. James raised his eyebrows mockingly.

"Whatever you say Albie," he replied, deliberately using the nickname he knew Al hated. Al clenched his fists. The small amount of love that he had for his brother was slowly dwindling. "Of course, when you do get put there, you'll be open to all sorts of pranks. I've been wanting to test Uncle George's latest trick!" Al was beginning to rethink the slowly part of that.

He shook his head, and turned his slight frame away from his brother in the universal signal of "go away". James huffed when he realised that he wasn't going to get another rise from Al.

The jolting movement of the car was joined by the slight screech of the tires and the tapping of Al's index finger against the door. Titania and James' barn owl Ook were hooting softly in their laps. Ten minutes later, after winding through a series of dirty suburbs, various office buildings and a stream of traffic moving at a snail's pace, Al slammed his door shut, ignoring the slight squawk that his beautiful owl gave.

Autumn had arrive early that year, Al mused, as he placed Titania's cage upon the trunk laden trolley his father was pushing. The late morning of the first of September was as crisp as an apple, and as the five Potters bobbed across the rumbling road towards the great sooty station, the fumes of car exhausts and the breath of pedestrians sparkled like cobwebs in the cold air. Al clutched his jacket closer to him in an attempt to retain some heat. Both Titania and Ook hooted indignantly as their cages rattles on top of the trolleys that Mum and Dad were pushing. Al and James walked at the front, weaving through the throng of tourists and city workers, their parents were pushing the trolleys behind them and Lily trailed fearfully behind her brothers, clutching her father's arm.

Dad's voice drifted forward to the boys.

"It won't be long, and you'll be going to," he assured her gently. Al rolled his eyes. The sooner Lily turned eleven the better. That way she wouldn't be left out, as she so often complained about being.

"Two years," Lily sniffed. Though he couldn't see her face he knew that his sister would have a pout upon it.

"You ready to join the snakes?" James asked. Al shot him a look.

He could see the commuters staring curiously at the two owls as the family made their way towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

"I won't!" he snapped. "I won't be in Slytherin!"

"James, give it a rest!" Mum told him sternly. James ignored her. As usual.

"I only said that he might be," James retorted, sending a self-satisfied smirk at Al. "There's nothing wrong with that. He might be in Slytherin."

Al was certain that his brother would have continued his teasing but he caught their mother's eye and fell silent. The five Potters approached the barrier. With a slightly cocky look over his shoulder at his younger brother, James took the trolley from Mum and broke into a run. He aimed the trolley straight at the barrier and a moment later, he had vanished.

"You will write to me, won't you?" Al asked his parents immediately, capitalising on the momentary absence of his brother. The tiniest bit of doubt and uncertainty crept into his voice, the words: _battle, Hogwarts, Lord Voldemort, Harry Potter, _running through his mind once more.

"Every day, if you want us to," said Mum kindly.

"Not every day," Al replied quickly. "James says most people only get letters from home about one a month." He knew this wasn't true. He had seen his parents writing to James at least twice a week in the school year beforehand.

Sure enough, his mother confirmed this mere seconds later.

"We wrote to James three times a week last year," she said frowning.

"And you don't want to believe everything he tells you about Hogwarts," Dad put in helpfully. Al resisted the temptation to roll his eyes and retort scathingly. Of course he knew that his brother wasn't serious. James rarely was. "He likes a laugh, your brother." As if Al didn't know that. He was usually the victim of James' sometimes cruel pranks.

Side by side, they pushed the second trolley forward, gathering speed. Al had never understood why they had to run. It seemed rather stupid. Dad and Aunt Hermione were always telling them that it was necessary for them to stay hidden. If muggles found out about magic they would want magical solutions for everything. Surely a group of people running at the solid barrier between two platforms and then suddenly disappearing into thin air would attract attention?

As they reached the barrier, Al winced. He did so every time he passed through the barrier. It had never occurred to him why he did so, but the sensation as he went straight through something that he should have hit.

Instead of the collision that Al was expecting, the family emerged onto platform nine and three quarters, which was obscured by thick white steam that was pouring from the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Indistinct figures were swarming through the mist, into which James had already disappeared.

"Where are they?" Al asked anxiously. He was peering at the hazy forms they passed as they made their way down the platform.

"We'll find them," Mum said reassuringly. Al found no comfort in those words. After all, the vapour was dense, and it was difficult to make out anybody's faces. Detached from their owners, a voice sounded unnaturally loud, Al though that he heard his Uncle Percy discoursing loudly on broomstick regulations, and was quite glad of the excuse not to stop and say hello. By the look on his father's face he was similarly pleased.

"I think that might be them, Al," Mum said suddenly.

A group of four people emerged from the mist, standing alongside the very last carriage. Their faces only came into focus when Al, Lily, Mum and Dad had drawn right up to them.

"Hi," Al said, sounding immensely relieved.

Rose, who was already wearing her brand-new Hogwarts robes, beamed at him. Rose may have been Al's closest cousin but sometimes Al couldn't stand her. The smug look on her face, especially when she wanted, or knew she was going to get, something, was particularly jarring.

Dad and Uncle Ron, Rose's father, lifted Rose's trunk onto the train, and then did the same with Al's.

Lily and Hugo, Rose's younger brother, were having an animated discussion about which houses they would be sorted into when they finally got to Hogwarts.

"If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you," Uncle Ron said seriously. "But no pressure."

"Ron!"

While Uncle Ron was berated, and Aunt Hermione and Mum assured the pair that he didn't mean it, Al caught sight of a small family, some fifty yards away. The steam had thinned for a moment, and three people stood in sharp relief against the shifting mist. Al wasn't the only one looking at them, both Dad and Uncle Ron were staring too.

"Look who it is," Uncle Ron muttered.

A pale man was standing there with his wife and son, a dark coat buttoned up to his throat. His hair was receding somewhat, which emphasised his pointed chin. A young boy of about Al's age was by his side, a small smile upon his face. The boy resembled his father as much as Al resembled his. The blonde man caught sight of them all staring at him and nodded curtly, before turning away again.

"So, that's little Scorpius," Uncle Ron breathed. Rose snorted at the name, though Al didn't find it funny, both he and the blonde boy seemed to have drawn the short straw when it came to names. "Makes sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."

Al let out a tiny sigh. Of course Rose would be praised for her intelligence. She was clever, but really, was she so clever that everyone else was ignored?

"Ron, for heaven's sake," Aunt Hermione sighed, half-stern, half-amused. "Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!"

"You're right, sorry," Uncle Ron said, but unable to help himself, he added, "Don't get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood."

That was certainly true. The Weasleys liked to intermingle their blood with those of different blood status'. Hypocrites, Al thought. The Weasleys might be known as blood traitors, but their blood was a pure as it came.

"Hey!"

James had reappeared; he had divested himself of his trunk, owl, and trolley and was evidently bursting with news. This wasn't unusual. James could get excited about anything.

"Teddy's back there," he said breathlessly, pointing back over his shoulder into the billowing clouds of steam. "Just seen him! And guess what he's doing? Snogging Victoire!"

He gazed up at the adults, evidently disappointed by the lack of reaction. This time it was Al who let out a snort. The entire family knew about Teddy and Victoire. They had done for weeks, and before that everyone had had an inkling about the pair for months. Everyone, it seemed, apart from James.  
He gazed up at the adults, evidently disappointed by the lack of reaction.

"Our Teddy! Teddy Lupin!"

"Like there's another Teddy," Al muttered under his breath. James ignored him.

"Snogging our Victoire! Our cousin! And I asked Teddy what he was doing…"

"You interrupted them?" Mum interjected. "You are so like Ron."

"And he said he'd come to see her off! And then he told me to go away." James paused. "He's snogging her!" he reiterated, as though worried he had not made himself clear.

"Oh, it would be lovely if they got married!" whispered Lily ecstatically. "Teddy would really be part of the family then!"

Al scoffed silently. Teddy came round for dinner about four times a week. No doubt someone would like to invite him to live with them and have done with it. It couldn't possibly be Teddy's choice.

"Yeah!" James grinned enthusiastically in reply to something that Dad had said. "I don't mind sharing with Al!" Al looked up sharply. James may not have minded, but he certainly did. "Teddy could have my room!" A horrified look slid across Al's face. Sharing a room with his older brother was like a hell that he was yet to experience, and had no desire to do so.

Thankfully his father shared the same opinion and informed James in no uncertain terms that the only way the brothers would ever share a room was when he wanted the house demolished. Personally Al felt that he would only ever share a room with James when hell froze over, but he decided not to express that.

"It's nearly eleven," Dad said, checking his battered old watch. "You'd better get on board."

Hugs were exchanged all round.

"See you later Al," James aimed a kick at his brother after releasing his mother from a hug. "Watch out for the thestrals."

"I thought they were invisible?" Al said. "You said they were invisible!" Had James been lying again? He had a tendency to do so, particularly when Al was involved. Instead of answering James merely laughed, permitted Mum to kiss him, gave Dad a fleeting hug, then leapt onto the rapidly filling train. Al saw him wave, then sprint away up the corridor to find his friends.

"Thestrals are nothing to worry about," Dad told Al kindly, as if he didn't know that. "They're gentle things, there's nothing scary about them. Anyway, you won't be going up to school in the carriages, you'll be going in the boats." Al decided not to point out that he knew that seeing as he was one of the younger members of his ridiculously large family, and that eight people had already gone through their first year, each of them going in the boats."

Al found himself caught up in his mother's hug, allowing her to kiss him goodbye.

"See you at Christmas," she smiled.

"Bye Al," Dad said softly as he hugged him. "Don't forget Hagrid's invited you to tea next Friday. Don't mess with Peeves. Don't duel anyone till you've learned how." Al nodded at each of them in turn. "And don't let James wind you up." Al bit his tongue. He didn't want to be rude, not when he was saying goodbye.

"What if I'm in Slytherin?"

The whisper was for his father alone, and Al was sure his father knew that only saying goodbye to his family for the first time could have forced him to reveal how deep and sincere the fear of disappointing his family was.

His father crouched down so that Al's face was slightly above his own. Al knew that, out of his father's three children, he alone had inherited his grandmother's eyes.

"Albus Severus," he was told quietly, so that nobody but his mother could hear, and she was tactful enough to pretend to be waving to Rose, who was now on the train, though Al caught a glimpse of her looking at them. "You were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts." Al knew that. He had heard the story many times. "One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew."

He wasn't getting it. The fear that Al had wasn't of being sorted into Slytherin, but then his father would never understand the true fear that was deep rooted inside of him.

"But just say…" Al began, but he was interrupted.

"Then Slytherin House will have gained an excellent student, won't it?" It doesn't really matter to us Al." That Al didn't believe. "But if it matters to you, you'll be able to choose Gryffindor over Slytherin. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account." Al was about to open his mouth, but then his father's words sank in.

"Really?" he asked. His father nodded.

"It did for me," he told him. A look that Al was sure was a mix between astonishment and thoughtfulness slid across his face.

Doors were slamming all along the scarlet train, and the blurred outlines of parents swarming forward for final kisses, last minute reminders, Al jumped into the carriage and his mother closed the door behind him. Students were hanging from the windows nearest them. A great number of faces, both on the train and off, seemed to be turned toward Dad.

"Why are they all staring?" Al demanded, pleading silently for his father to tell the truth.

"Don't let it worry you," Uncle Ron informed them. "It's me, I'm extremely famous."

Al, Rose, Hugo, and Lily laughed. The train began to move, and Dad walked alongside it. The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air. The train rounded a corner. Dad's hand was still raised in farewell.

"Come on," Rose said to Al bossily. "Let's get a compartment." Al was too tired to argue with her so instead, he simply nodded. They made their way down the train, searching for an empty compartment. When they finally reached one Al entered it, and threw himself down on the seat next to window.

Houses flashed past the window as the train sped up. A great leap of excitement leapt through Al's entire being. Hogwarts was calling to him.

Rose immersed herself in a book almost immediately while Al took to staring out of the window, his cheek resting upon the cold glass, just as it had done in the car. He watched the streets of London go by and gazed at the muggles going about their business, completely unaware of the eight hundred witches and wizards hurtling at ninety miles an hour towards a magical school up in Scotland. How boring their lives must be.

Just as Al was musing over this the compartment door slid open and the pale blonde boy whose father they had been staring at earlier entered.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked, gesturing to an empty seat.

"Sure," Al said, studying him curiously. "I'm Al, by the way, Al Potter." The boy nodded, a look of understanding on his face.

"Scorpius Malfoy," he returned with a grimace. "I was told to stay away from the Potters."

"And we were told to stay away from you," Rose said disapprovingly, looking up from her book. Al sighed.

"That's Rose," he explained. "My cousin."

"A Weasley?"

"Yeah."

"That explains it," Scorpius said with a grin. "Luckily though, our parents can't see us, so they won't know that I've been associating with a Weasley and a Potter." Scorpius sent a wicked grin at Al who found himself laughing.

"It's our secret," Al smirked. Scorpius grinned.

Over the next few minutes Al found that he had an easy rapport with Scorpius. They got on well, talking about Hogwarts, Quidditch, and, at around half twelve, when the witch with the sweet trolley came round, sweets.

"Who did you get?" Scorpius asked as he bit the head off of a chocolate frog.

"Some guy called Dzou Yen," Al said, showing him the card. "It says that he was a Chinese Alchemist." Scorpius nodded appreciatively. Al studied the card.

Dzou Yen (also known as Zou Yan or Tsou Yen, 305BC – 240BC) was a Chinese mystic who lived in the state Qi during Spring and Auntimn Period, an era of political turmoil preceding the total collapse of the Zhou Dynasty. He is considered one of the founders of Chinese scientific though. He is credited with refining the theories and the Five Elements and Yin and Yang, though his writings are now lost.

"Sounds interesting," Scorpius said, now gnawing on a liquorice wand, ignoring the disapproving look Rose was shooting him.

Al turned the card over and studied the Chinese wizard's image. He frowned slightly and then turned to the growing pile of chocolate frog cards. Most of them he already had, but there were a few, like Agrippa, Mopsus and Herpo the foul, which Al hadn't seen before.

Once Al and Scorpius had demolished the pile of chocolate frogs they started on the four boxes of Bertie Bott's every flavour beans that they had purchased. Rose had looked at them disapprovingly when they came back into the compartment their pockets considerably lighter and their arms laden with every type of sweet that the Hogwarts express sold, and that was a huge amount. Her displeasure at their purchase didn't stop Rose from eating two of Al's pumpkin pasties and about five chocolate frogs, all the while sniffing critically as the boys indulged themselves.

The train had sped far away from London and the countryside now flying past the window was getting wilder. The neat fields had vanished. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills. After several hours of gorging on sweets Al desperately needed to use the loo and figured that as they were approaching school he might as well get changed at the same time.

Following this logic, both Al and Scorpius exited the compartment and made their way down the train searching for the loo.

Scorpius was still getting changed, or, as Al more likely suspected, redoing his hair, by the time Al had relieved himself and gotten changed. He was leant against the wall when he heard a familiar lilting voice.

"…no way that is possible! I mean, come on, it's Wales!"

"So? Italy have a brilliant team this year, and Ireland aren't bad either."

"You're such an idiot sometimes Alex."

Anastasia Goldberg was walking down the corridor clad in muggle clothes, her dark curls pulled back in a ponytail. Next to her was a teenage boy who Al assumed was her brother, he had the same golden eyes as she did. They were having an animated discussion about something called Rugby. Al had no idea what that was, but presumed that it was a muggle thing.

"Hey, Anastasia!" he called. To his surprise Anastasia walked straight past him. "Hey, Anastasia, Anastasia!" He tapped girl on her shoulder. "What's up? Why are you ignoring me?"

"Maybe it's because she doesn't know you?" her brother – was his name Alex? – interjected sarcastically.

"But she does know me." Al was rather confused. He was sure it was Anastasia. How many people had Welsh accents and golden eyes after all? "We met in Madame Malkin's, you know, in Diagon Alley." The boy, Alex, was frowning.

"You can't have," he said.

"And why not?" Al challenged.

"Because her name isn't Anastasia," Alex replied.

"Yes," Al said. "It is."

"No," Alex mimicked his tone. "It isn't. I'm her brother, I know her name."

"Then why did you tell me it was Anastasia?" Al asked, hurt. The girl, Al refused to call her Anastasia anymore, smoothed down her cream coloured top, looked up and laughed mockingly.

"Did you really think that I would tell you my name?" she demanded, letting out a derisive snort. "As if! I don't know you, you don't know me. You were just some scrawny boy in a shop who needs to learn better." She looked Al up and down with a superior smirk on her face. "Don't think that we're friends little boy. You are nothing!"

With that the girl stalked off, her ponytail swinging from side to side down her back as she walked, leaving Al and her brother standing there awkwardly.

"I should probably…" Alex trailed off. Al nodded, a lump forming in his throat. "Good luck with the Sorting," Alex offered. Al nodded once more and Alex sent him a slightly strained, consoling smile before hurrying after his sister.

"You okay?"

Al jumped at Scorpius's voice. The blonde boy was standing right behind him, dressed in his uniform. He was frowning slightly but Al just offered up a small smile and gestured down the corridor.

When the boys reached their compartment again Al looked out of the window. It was getting dark. Mountains and forests could be seen under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down too. Al rested back on his window seat, gazing out at the darkening sky.

Moments later a voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Al's stomach lurched with nerves and as he looked around Scorpius seemed even paler than normal, and Rose was slightly green under her freckles. Both boys crammed their pockets with the few remaining sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor. Several meters ahead, the girl who was most definitely _not _Anastasia Goldberg was walking alongside her brother and several other boys.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped with a great lurch that sent Al crashing forward into Scorpius. People pushed their way toward the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Al shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Al heard a familiar voice: "First' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Al?"

The huge hairy face belonging to a lifelong friend of the Potters beamed over the sea of heads.

"Hagrid!" Al grinned back.

"C'mon, follow me – any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Al thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. A blonde girl squeaked in fear every time someone stepped on a twig. 'Anastasia' seemed to enjoy her squeals and after the first three she took particular care to tread on as many as possible.

"Ye'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder. "Jus' round this bend here…"

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a vast black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a great castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats resting in the water by the shore. Al, Scorpius and Rose were followed into their boat by the squealing blonde girl. Al sniggered as a snotty nosed boy tripped into 'Anastasia' and nearly pushed her into the water. She pushed him off her in disgust and stalked off, that swaggering manner apparent in the swish of her dark curls.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then – FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid, as the first boats reached the cliff. Everyone ducked their heads and allowed the little boats through a thick curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. Scorpius made a small whimpering noise as a cobweb got tangled in his hair. Al attempted, and failed, to keep his sniggers to himself. Scorpius just glared.

They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Watch where you're going!" 'Anastasia hissed at Rose as Al's closest cousin moved forward, closer to Hagrid, pushing her into the slimy wall of the cave. Rose was about to retort rudely when Al pulled her out of the way. He could quite plainly see the glint of anger in 'Anastasia's' piercing golden eyes.

"Oy, you two! Break it up!" called Hagrid, seeing the death glares that the two girls were shooting each other. Neither girl moved, their limbs stiffly tensed, their bright eyes, blue and gold respectively, steely.

"Rose come on," Scorpius said gently. Rose glanced at Al who nodded, steely faced himself.

"Fine," his cousin ground out. Tossing her hair in the air Rose pushed her way to the front of the group. Al and Scorpius followed after her.

Then the group clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here?"

Robes swished as practically everyone looked around, searching for anyone missing. There was a murmur of assent.

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.


	4. A Slytherin Sorting

**So, this is it, Al's fate is decided! I hope you all enjoy it.**

* * *

The door swung open immediately to reveal a tall, golden-haired wizard in sky blue robes. He had the same haughty expression of superiority on his face as 'Anastasia' had. Al knew immediately that this was not someone to cross from his stern face.

"The firs' years, Professor Grant," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid," the man said curtly. "I shall take them from here."

He pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big that you could have fit Tannor farm in there at least three or four times, and still have space left over. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was far too high to make out, and as Al turned his head a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor Grant across the flagged stone floor. Al could hear the drone of hundreds of voices chattering away excitedly from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school must have already arrived – but the golden haired Professor Grant showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would have usually done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome," said Professor Grant. "To Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The start of term banquet will begin very soon, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you shall be sorted into your houses." He raised his eyebrows, as if questioning whether the children in front of him were capable of understanding such matters. "The Sorting is a ceremony of vital importance because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. A noble history belongs to each of the houses, and each of them has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are here at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I expect that each and every one of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours." Professor Grant's eyes swept over the hundred or so students crowded in front of him. "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you.

It might just have been Al's imagination, but he was almost certain that just before Professor Grant left the room, his eyes lingered on Al and Scorpius.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" the squealing blonde girl from before asked nervously. A round of whispering broke out around the room, people describing the various things that their siblings had told them about. Most of them were utterly ridiculous. Al thought he even heard one person telling their friend that they had to wrestle a troll. It sounded like the sort of think James would have told him. In fact, Al was fairly certain that it was one of the lies that his older brother had sneered at him.

He looked around, the anxiety he had felt earlier returning in waves, and saw that everyone else looking terrified. Even Scorpius looked more pale than usual. Only Rose and the golden eyed 'Anastasia' looked at all calm. The nervous whispering around the room seemed to irritate Rose after a while and she began grinding her teeth. The golden eyed 'Anastasia' had a smirk on her face. Al wasn't sure what amused her more, the nervous whispering of her classmates or Rose's irritation. She seemed like the kind of girl who enjoyed seeing people annoyed or nervous.

Al kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor Grant would return and he would have to face up to his fears. Al hadn't felt this nervous, jumpy or nauseated since Lily had fallen into the river a few years ago not being able to swim. His head spun slightly and he had to shake his head in an attempt to get rid of the splashing sound that was echoing through his mind. He was so focused on the door that he didn't even notice what had happened until he heard several people behind him screamed.

"What the –?" Al nearly swore when he saw what had made people scream.

About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the new first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance –"

Fat little monk, Al thought. It must be the Fat Friar! Al had heard stories of him. And there! The ghost wearing a ruff and tights! That had to be Nearly Headless Nick! Teddy said that it was usually Nick who noticed the first years, and sure enough, moments later, after disagreeing with the Friar he exclaimed: "I say, what are you all doing here?"

There was a moment of silence. Then…

"Hadn't you heard?" 'Anastasia' asked slyly, a smirk spreading across her pretty features. "This is the new Death Row. The fiercest, most dangerous criminals in all the lands, captured and forced to bear witness to their own deaths. The dragon the slumbers deep beneath this castle shall wake and we shall be thrown in, hands tied together, no way to escape, into his lair, and he shall FEAST!" She shouted the last word and cackled merrily as at least half of the first years screamed, cowering in fear of the lovely girl leaning lazily against a marble pillar.

The ghosts were silent. Al had a feeling that nobody had ever answered back in such a manner before. A disapproving tut came from the other side of the room.

"You got a problem or something?" 'Anastasia' asked, her eyes narrowing as she stalked, almost catlike, towards Rose. Rose made the same movement towards the taller girl, but she wasn't naturally lithe or able to move in the same leisurely way.

"Yes, actually," Rose replied, her frizzy hair crackling as she sneered at her new rival. "You can't go around telling people that sort of thing." 'Anastasia' raised her eyebrows mockingly.

"Rrreally?" she asked, rolling her R's in that Welsh lilt of hers. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I think that I just did." Her face was lit up in a smirk, her golden eyes darkening. Rose scowled.

"Well perhaps I should explain to you how things work at Hogwarts," she said.

"Perhaps _I _should be the one explaining things to you," 'Anastasia hissed, her eyes flashing menacingly. "You don't get to push me around Princess. You don't get to tell me what to do. You have no say in anything. Capire?" Rose just stared, fear and confusion in her eyes. "Do you understand?" Fear flickered across Rose's face but then she got her courage back.

"Actually, I don't. This is _my _world. I run this show. Capire?"

The two girls were practically nose to nose. Rose was at least a head shorter than the other girl, who was far more intimidating. To her credit, Rose didn't back away; only swallowed down her fear and looked straight back at the other girl.

Al was fairly certain that there was raw magic and anger crackling through the air surrounding the two girls and he was rather pleased when a sharp cough came from behind him, announcing the entrance of Professor Grant.

"The Sorting Ceremony is about to start," he announced. The ghosts seemed to get the message immediately, and one by one they floated away through the opposite wall. Rose and 'Anastasia' were still locked in a mental battle, neither one of them seemingly prepared to give up. Both girls slowly turned their heads when Professor Grant stood before them, a scowl upon his face.

"Are we done?" he asked in false pleasantness.

"Not quite," 'Anastasia' muttered, her own scowl etched deeply within the lines on her face.

"Did you hear that?" Rose demanded, assuming that Professor Grant would detest disrespect. Al had a feeling that she was right, though saying that also counted as disrespect.

"Yes, Miss...?"

"Weasley," Rose said proudly. "Rose Weasley."

"Well Miss Weasley, I did hear that." A triumphant smirk appeared on Rose's face. "But I also heard you. The both of you will get detention."

"What!" Rose was horrified. Al doubted that she had ever been punished in such a manner before. Rose spun round wildly, her red hair a bushy mess, two pink spots on her cheeks practically glowing. She glared at 'Anastasia'. "This is your fault! You awful…"

"Miss Weasley!"

Professor Grant cut her off and Rose's face flushed with embarrassment.

"You and Miss…?" He looked at 'Anastasia'.

"Leytii," she admitted reluctantly. "Eliza Leytii." She raised her eyebrows and made a face at Al as the two girls were given their punishments.

"Now, form a line," Professor Grant ordered the first years. "And follow me."

Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Al stepped into the line behind almost everyone else. Only Scorpius and the newly named Eliza were behind him though Al still wasn't sure that that was her real name. He wouldn't trust her as far as he could throw her. The line of first years walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of beautiful golden double door into the Great Hall.

Though he had visited Hogwarts many times in his young life, Al had never imagined that Hogwarts could provide such a strange and splendid sight. The Great Hall was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in mid-air over the four long house table, where the rest of the students were sitting. The tables were laden with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor Grant led the trembling and utterly amazed first years up towards this table, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone must silver. Gasps came from all around him and Al copied them in looking up at the ceiling. He understood the gasps now. While he had seen it on grey mornings with cloudy skies, the sight of a velvety black sky dotted with bright, twinkling stars. If he had been listening he would have heard Rose whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside." It would probably be followed by a reference to Rose's favourite book Hogwarts, A History. Still, it was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open up to the heavens.

Al quickly looked down again as Professor Grant silently placed an old three-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool he put a pointed wizard's hat that he had produced from behind his back. The hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Mrs Sloane, Al's year three teacher at Happiselwood Primary School, who was a complete neat freak, wouldn't have touched it with a barge pole.

Everyone in the hall was staring at the hat, and once again Al followed their gaze and stared at the filthy hat. For a few seconds there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. Al nearly jumped out of his skin at that. A rip near the brim opened wide, like a mouth, and the hat began to sing:

_I may be patched and frayed_

_But I am as great as ever_

_For I know of what you're made_

_Brave, wicked, kind or clever_

_Brainless and bare_

_With nothing at all to care_

_Now owe my wisdom_

_To the founders of this school_

_Four great witches and wizards_

_Also the greatest of friends_

_Until one of them walked out_

_Refusing to make amends_

_Four houses named after them_

_Each of those who belong_

_In their own right are a gem_

_And together work along._

_Brave ones walk into Gryffindor_

_Heads held high_

_Not at once shy_

_A brave death they shall die_

_With open arms doth Slytherin_

_Welcome those born of ambition_

_Ones with a sly, cunning notion_

_He who can hold their emotion_

"_I shall take the clever ones,"_

_Said sharp Ravenclaw_

_And take she did_

_To teach them all she knew_

_Fair Hufflepuff took the rest_

_Kindly did she nest_

_Prospering under her rule_

_Enjoyment reigned through the school_

_But disunity crept between them_

_Slytherin left the school_

_And so the remaining three_

_Had to extend the magic pool_

_But rule the did_

_And I'll do their bid_

_Come one, come all_

_To prove yourselves as I call_

_For it is up to me to sort you_

_Into the house where you're due_

_Have no fear, I choose the best_

_Then it's up to you to take care of all the rest_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. Several boys on the table second to the left were wolf whistling at the hat but quickly quietened down after Professor Grant shot them a glare. That hat bowed to each of the four table and then became quite still again.

Professor Grant stepped forward holing a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," he said. "Adams, Annabel!"

A small girl with russet coloured hair in a French plait stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause –

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

The table on the far left exploded with cheers; Al could see his brother and cousins catcalling and the ghost of Nearly Headless Nick waved at her.

"Anderson, Jennifer!"

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouted this time, and the table second from the left, the one with the wolf-whistling boys, yelled and screamed as another girl, this one with long blonde hair, scuttled off to join her new house.

"Azacardi, Marcus," was called and after a moment the Hufflepuff table cheered and clapped, the Fat Friar joining in merrily.

"Baron, Rafael," went to Hufflepuff too, but "Bailey, Eoin," became the first new Slytherin, and the table on the right greeted their new student with a round of applause.

Perhaps it was Al's imagination, but every table in the hall seemed to be seizing him up, checking to see whether he was worthy of their house. He was starting to feel definitely sick now. At school back in Happiselwood no one wanted the Potter freak on their team so he was usually last to be picked for sports. It didn't help that James teased him and made fun of him at every opportunity.

"Fisher, Iona!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Sometimes, Al noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but for others it took a little while to decide. "Jackson, Cassandra," a harsh looking brunette stood three people in front of Al sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared her a Ravenclaw.

"Johansen, Bradley!"

Bradley practically ran up to the stool and was there for about three seconds before the hat screamed "GRYFFINDOR!"

A horrible thought struck Al, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? Being sorted into Slytherin and going against his family was one thing. Not being sorted at all was another. Al shuddered as he imagined being just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor Grant jerked it off his head and sent him back to the train with that horrifyingly superior look upon his face all the while.

When "Leytii, Eliza," was called, Al was rather surprised when the golden eyed beauty who Rose had disagreed with earlier made her way up. For even though she had given her name to Professor Grant, Al honestly wouldn't have been surprised if she had given yet another false name. The girl was a mystery wrapped up in a riddle wrapped up in a series of false identities. She was sat there for a while, her long fingers clutching the stool, her knuckles clenched. Al couldn't see her eyes as the hat covered them, but her face was snarled into a scowl.

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat screamed after at least five minutes. There was a moment of silence and then the table clad in green and silver began cheering.

A pair of Chinese twins were called up. "Ling" and "Ling" and then "Locke, Helena." Helena and one of the twins went to Ravenclaw, while the other joined the house of the scarlet and gold.

Then it was Scorpius' turn.

The blonde boy made his way up slowly when Professor Grant called his name. Many of the students, the ones predominantly from Gryffindor, hissed at him and Al couldn't help but feel for the younger boy as the hat dropped over his eyes.

He was sat there a surprisingly long time, not nearly as long as Eliza Leytii, but still, a long time.

After a while the hat screamed "SLYTHERIN!" and Scorpius got off the stool and made his way down to the Slytherin table, sending a look of apology at Al. Al replied to that with a small shrug as he waited to be called.

Nearly three quarters of the students had gone by now and it was almost Al's turn. "Newvelle" "Nottingham" "Oliver" "O'Reilly" "Parks" "Patel" "Patterson" "Phillips" and then, at last – "Potter, Albus!"

As Al stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"Harry Potter's boy?"

Al ignored them as best as he could. The last thing Al saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Much like your father. He was tricky too. You've got plenty of courage and a rather brilliant mind too. Oh, yes! Talent, so much talent, my goodness, yes – and a nice thirst to prove yourself, to step out of your father's shadow. You don't get many people like that these days, why, only two people I have seen so far –,"

"How do you see if you're a hat?" Al asked curiously.

"It is a phrase, young man!" the hat snapped back. Al bit his lip. "Now, as I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted!"

"Sorry," Al muttered.

"You are unlike many, young man. You have true ambition, and you will most certainly go far; if you let me show you the way…"

"You mean Slytherin don't you?"

"Why do you sound so disappointed young Potter? You could be so great there, you know. It's all in that head of yours, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that – but it is your choice…"

"If I go there, what will my family do?" Al asked nervously.

"That, I do not know," the hat told Al who frowned. It was as if the hat were sad. "But whatever they do, you must know that in Slytherin you will find your real friends, friends who will stand by you, friends who will become great with you."

There seemed to be a deafening silence in the hall.

"Slytherin," Al said firmly. The hat seemed to smirk.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Al heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Slytherin table where Scorpius was sat, pale and confused, but with a smile on his face. There was deafening silence in the hall, but Al didn't even notice it. He took his seat next to Scorpius, the other Slytherins peering curiously at it.

He could see the high table properly now. At the end farthest away from him sat Hagrid, who was looking determinedly away from him. Al could feel his heart sinking. At the centre of the high table, sat in an ornate golden chair, sat the Headmaster. Al had seen him around before. He was always at the remembrance services that Al had attended at the school. Somehow though, Al had never learned of his name. In the letters that came home about James' behaviour, they were always addressed from Neville Longbottom, the head of Gryffindor house. The man had a strange presence about him, there was definitely an aura of power about him, and Al felt strangely comfortable. He was still looking at his Headmaster when the man turned his head towards him. Al's breath caught in his throat but the man nodded gently to him, his eyes the same velvety black as the sky, and Al felt himself relax.

He glanced back at the only six people remaining to be sorted. "Thurman, Gina" followed her twin brother into Ravenclaw just before "Vermont, Nikolas" slid into the seat alongside Eliza Leytii who sent him a disparaging look.

Then it was Rose's turn. Sure enough, barely a moment after the hat touched her bushy haired head it screamed "GRYFFINDOR!" and Rose skipped off to join the rest of Al's family.

Al didn't even bother to watch as "White, Damon" "Wilkinson, Gabrielle" and "Winters, Bernadette" were all sorted into Hufflepuff. Out of the corner of his eyes Al saw Professor Grant rolling up his scroll and taking the sorting hat away.

The empty gold plate in front of Al made him realise just how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties and various sweets he'd eaten at lunch seemed like ages ago.

His eyes then drifted towards the Headmaster who had gotten to his feet. He smiled graciously at all of the students, his dark eyes twinkling with a kind of secret humour that Al was sure nobody but he understood.

"Welcome," he greeted them all with a truly genuine smile. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! For those who do not know me I am Professor Quidel, Headmaster of this establishment. Before we begin out banquet I have a small announcement to make. Professor Roper, who has taught most of you, has decided to take a sabbatical so that she may take care of her family. Fortunately, I am delighted to say that Professor Highclere, who some of our seventh years may remember, has accepted my request to reprieve his role as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."

There was a smattering of applause and a man of about thirty stood up and gave a small bow.

"Thank you," Quidel said when the applause had died down. "Now, let the feast begin!"

Al's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had seen incredible things with magic but even with his experiences at his grandparent's house he had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas carrots, gravy, ketchup, mayonnaise, and, for some strange reason, bowls of hard, flat, orange sweets.

Al piled his plate with a bit of everything. In his family people ate as much as they could as quickly as they could. His cousins had no manners and so if you wanted to eat whatever you wanted, you had to get in fast. Too many times James had taken anything that Al really wanted, even if he hated it. Al licked his lips as he began to eat.

A sensation like being plunged into a bucket of ice washed over him as a horrible ghost with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face and robes stained with silver blood floated through him. He shuddered and Scorpius slid up slightly so that the ghost could rest in between them.

"Relax," a girl sat further up the table said, grinning at him. "It's just the Bloody Baron. He's quite gentle really. If you get on his good side that is. Just don't ask him how he got blood stained, he doesn't like that."

Al nodded slowly.

"Don't ask him about the blood, got it!" he said with a weak smile. The older girl smiled kindly at him.

"You'll be fine kid. You're a Slytherin. As far as we're concerned, once that hat declares you a snake, you're one of us, one of the elite. Everybody in this house is destined for greatness. If we weren't, if we didn't have the potential for greatness, then we wouldn't be sorted here." Al nodded. "You're one of us Albus."

"Al," he corrected quickly, and then blushed.

"Al, then," the girl smiled. "When you're one of us, we look out for you. It's how Slytherins do things."

"She's right," a boy sat next to her said. "You're a snake. One of us." Al was strangely comforted by the thought of the people he had been taught to hate looking out for him.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them a sparkling golden colour, just as they were before. A moment later the puddings appeared. Scoops of ice cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, strange blocks of jelly, rice pudding and little balls covered in sesame seeds.

As Al helped himself to one of the sesame seed balls and promptly dropped it because of the heat. Across the table Eliza Leytii snorted.

"You're supposed to use the chopsticks," she informed him with a shake of the head. Al frowned and the taller girl tossed a pair of ivory chopsticks to him.

"Why can't he just use a fork?" Scorpius questioned. Eliza sent him a withering look.

"Because the Chinese don't use forks to eat their food you moron. They use chopsticks." She plucked the sesame seed ball straight off Al's plate and into her mouth. A smirk was present on her face as she chewed. "Mmm." She licked her lips mockingly. Al made a face at her before stabbing another one with a chopstick. Eliza simply shook her head and turned to sneer derisively at the tiny blonde girl sat next to her.

As Al turned back to Scorpius and his new housemates he found that the talk had turned to families. Almost none of the first year Slytherins were purebloods he found, and a great deal of them seemed proud of it.

"I'm half and half," said Carlton, flicking his fringe out of his eyes. "Mum's a muggle. Dad met her just after the war. She was pregnant with me and Matt before she even found out about magic." Bit of a nasty shock for her."

The others laughed.

"What about you Eliza?" a Hispanic girl by the name of Carmen asked. Eliza turned her head.

"Well it's a beautiful story really," she smiled prettily, and Al could definitely see Anastasia when she smiled like that. "My mother was an immigrant from Israel, she met my father when she was being smuggled across the border to Egypt. They went on a long and dangerous mission, all the way down the river Nile in a desperate attempt to save her life. Eventually they made it to Sudan and into Eritrea. That was where their love was born, and once they made it back to the UK they got married, had Alex and me and lived happily. Ever. After." She smirked, the sarcasm dripping from her pink lips. The rest of the table looked utterly puzzled and Eliza had a feline grin on her face as she downed the contents of her goblet in one.

Scorpius and Al had swapped places halfway through pudding and he was talking with the brunette girl who had reassured Al earlier about lessons. Though Al's blonde friend had scoffed at Rose on the train, he seemed very interested in the classes ("Transfiguration sounds rather interesting, I hope we start right away," "You'll start small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing –,").

A sleepy sensation was beginning to surround Al and he looked up at the high table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet and still avoiding Al's gaze determinedly. Professor Grant was deep in discussion with a young witch with long chestnut brown hair and rich brown eyes. Professor Neville Longbottom, a friend of Al's family, was talking to Professor Highclere, a clean shaven man who had bright blue eyes.

The only person at the high table not conversing with someone was Professor Quidel. He wasn't touching his food, instead he was gazing thoughtfully, and quite plainly, at the Slytherin table. Al wasn't quite sure why he was doing so, but his gaze seemed to be locked on either Al, or Scorpius. When he saw Al looking he nodded, raising his own golden goblet slightly in Al's direction. Al turned back to the conversation, but after a moment he returned to look at Professor Quidel. He was still gazing at the Slytherin table.

Al blinked, and in the second that it took him to do so, Professor Quidel had been engaged in conversation with a wisp of witch. He watched him for a while but the headmaster didn't look at him again.

At last, the puddings too disappeared, and Professor Quidel got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"I'm sure you are all sick to death of listening to me, particularly the seventh years," there was a smattering of laughter around the hall. "But for the benefit of the new students, I have a few start of term notices to give you.

First years should note that the forest on the grounds id forbidden to all pupils. A few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Quidel's gaze was directed at the Gryffindor table in the direction of James. "And under no circumstances are you to sell, or purchase, "tours of the Forbidden Forest, mystery, magic and malevolence all rolled into one"" Quidel looked directly at the Ravenclaw table and about halfway down a group of teenage boys cheered.

Quidel shook his head.

"I have also been asked by Mr Custodian, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. All magic is included in this. Hexes, curses, jinxes, any spell whatsoever."

This time he looked at the Slytherin table.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the fourth week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house team should contact Madame Euphorie."

Al and Scorpius exchanged grins.

"I believe that is the end of the announcements, so I shall allow you all to go off to your most comfortable beds. Prefects, lead the way."

The Slytherin first years followed the brunette girl that both Al and Scorpius had conversed with through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and down through a passageway concealed in the stone wall. Al's legs felt like lead, mostly because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy to even take notice of the moving people in the portraits, whispering and pointing as they passed. He was sure that he would never remember the route that the girl, who then introduced herself as Gemma, took them on, through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Al was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

The corridor was a dead end. Silken tapestries hung on the walls and for the first time since Al had just left the Great Hall, he saw no portraits decorating the stone walls.

Gemma stopped in front of a stretch of bare white wall. Al could hear the steady drip of water onto the ground. It wasn't really surprising, they were so far under the school that they must be under the lake. Gemma flashed a grin at the first years.

"Anguis," she announced and the stone wall slid upwards to reveal the Slytherin common room. Everyone stepped through and once they were through the door slid back in place.

Al was rather amazed at the common room. It was incredible. The room was rectangular in shape, made of rough stone with a low ceiling. Brass lamps hung from the ceiling emitting a bronze glow. The fire that crackled in the grate sent shadows dancing across the room. The flames licking up the chimney in the grate were surrounded by a truly glorious mantelpiece. It was elaborately carved out of marble, the Slytherin crest at the top, snakes acting as vines spiralling down, flowers decorating it. It was a surprise to Al that when Salazar Slytherin built this room, he had surprisingly good taste in interior decoration. A series of emerald green chesterfield sofas and wing backed arm chairs were surrounding the fire. Al could see several older students sat round the fire talking quietly. One of them called out to Gemma and she waved at them before stopping the first years in front of the windows. More sofas and armchairs were spread about the room, some facing the panoramic view that the glass windows provided. They looked out at the depths of the black lake that the little boats had sailed across earlier. Unlike the water on the surface, the water down by the Slytherin windows was churning, shoals of tiny silver fish swimming by. The sound of the lake water lapping at the windows was soothing and Al found his eyes fluttering shut every now and again.

"Welcome," Gemma said with a smile. "To the Slytherin common room! Girls and boys have separate dormitories."

She gestured to either side of the room where ornate silver doors with the same snake/flowered vine design engraved into it. Al could make out the word: Girls, in loopy writing inscribed onto the door on the left side of the room and there was an identical door, only this time with the inscription: Boys.

"Unlike the other houses, we Slytherins have no more than two people to a dorm. We like our own privacy, and our space. One you enter the dormitory area you will find a door that says: First Years. When you enter that corridor there will be a series of rooms with nameplates on the door. Your luggage will be in the room with your name on. If there isn't a room with your name on it, come and find me, or Jonathan," she gestured to an olive skinned boy who had come to stand behind her. "And we'll sort it out for you. Now, to bed, I expect to see you all tomorrow morning." She smiled and waved as the first years began to disperse.

Al and Scorpius turned and began walking towards the silver door that led to the boys' dorms. As soon as they had descended the spiral stairs they found themselves face to face with yet another silver door, this one with the engraving: First Years.

Scorpius turned the door handle and the two boys entered the corridor. It was decorated with a forest green wallpaper and mahogany panelling. It seemed that Slytherin had been fond of silver doors and the corridor that the boys entered into was lined with them. Next to each door was a pair of name plates. The other boys were chattering away as Al and Scorpius made their way down the hallway.

They had looked at sixteen name plates before they finally spotted their names, Scorpius Malfoy, and then, underneath, Albus Potter. Al pushed open the door and found a rather excellent dormitory.

Much like the hallway, the dorm was decorated in forest green and mahogany panelling. A four poster bed, again mahogany, was at each end of the room. Al's trunk had been pushed under one, while the same had been done to Scorpius' trunk underneath the other bed. Green silk hung from each bed and it had matching bedspreads embroidered in silver. Another pair of green chesterfield sofas were in the centre of the room facing each other, a mahogany coffee table set in between them. There was a fireplace facing the silver door, the mantelpiece that decorated it wasn't nearly as grand as the one in the common room. On the far right side of the room, closest to Al's bed, was yet another door, this time mahogany, not silver. Al opened it to reveal a marble bathroom complete with shower, bath, sink and lavatory. On the other side of the room, inside an alcove, was a circular chute, presumably for dirty laundry. Silver lanterns hung from the ceiling, providing a gentle glow.

"Nice accommodation," Scorpius said appreciatively with a low whistle. Al nodded tiredly in reply.

Both boys were too exhausted to talk anymore and once they had changed into their pyjamas neither of them said another word as they sank into the feather soft pillows and the deep blackness of sleep consumed them.

* * *

**I know that in most next gen stories McGonagall is the headmistress, but J.K said that she was getting on a bit so I created a whole new Hogwarts Staff, excepted from Professor Neville Longbottom, of course.**


	5. The Magic of a Moving Staircase

**Ok, here it is, my next chapter in Albus Potter's saga of trouble at Hogwarts. Once again, I own nothing that you recognise from J.K Rowling's series.**

_It was dark. The air was cold and clammy and the stone wall that she had her back pressed against had water trickling down it. Steel shackles encircled her slim wrists and ankles. Shallow breaths escaped her dry, cracked lips and blood had dried in a trickle out of the corner of her mouth. A tattered dress of peach silk hung about her thin frame, not nearly enough to keep her warm. Her hair was tangled, and matted with blood. She had bruises and scratches all the way along both arms and several on her face where someone had clawed at her cheeks. It was clear that she had been a prisoner for a long time but she was still beautiful underneath the grime and dirt and blood._

_"Come to kill me?" she asked, lifting her head slightly. She looked pale, and tired. Then she let out a mocking laugh. "No, you won't do that, will you? You want me alive so that I can watch as you destroy everything!"_

_The dark figure in front of her moved forward, seizing her neck with one meaty, scarred hand, and pushing her backwards, so that her head cracked painfully on the damp stone. Her already difficult breathing became even more so as the man attempted to choke the life out of the girl. Clinking noises came from the chains secured tightly around the girl's wrists as she reached up and with an enormous effort, managed to free herself from the hold._

_"Don't touch me!" she hissed, massaging her neck._

_The man let out a mocking laugh, the tone almost exactly identical to the girl's but deeper, harsher and filled with malevolence._

_"Still have some bite, don't you?" the man sneered. The girl shook her head._

_"You, any of you, will never break me," she informed him, her breathing heavy._

_"We shall see."_

_His footsteps echoed around the dark, dank room as the man took a leisurely stroll over to the door, the swishing sound his cloak made on the floor the only other noise in the room. Just as the man reached the door the girl scrambled to her feet, the chains that secured her to the wall clanking against each other as she stood up, probably for the first time in weeks._

_"You won't win!" she called. "You will never defeat the Renzhiyin! The Fenghuang will soar again!"_

_Her bright eyes were full of fire as she spoke. A smile curled her lips and despite her blood matted hair, all the grime and the dirt on her face, the scratches that ran down her arms, the tattered piece of silk that had once been a beautiful dress, the chains that bound her wrists and ankles, the darkness and the damp of the prison cell that she was being kept in, and now the bruises on her neck that were blooming a lovely shade of blue, she looked like a young, beautiful princess, just as she was supposed to._

_The passion and the defiance in the girl's eyes was matched by the fury and rage in the man's. He turned and thrust his hand out at the girl sending her flying backwards._

_Everything went blurry for the girl as she slid down the wall, her head slipping to the side, the smirk on the man's face the only clear thing that she could see. The girl forced her eyelids open, but she couldn't keep them that way for much longer and the last thing she saw before she blacked out completely was the bright golden eyes of her captor. The same bright golden eyes as her own._

Eliza jerked awake, her green silk sheets pooling around her legs, a sheen of sweat coating her skin. Her breathing was laboured, and her heart racing. This didn't desist as Eliza looked around the unfamiliar room, the cream walls and the silver pattern painted over it, the ancient four poster bed and the green silk hangings and sheets, the mahogany dresser and the door leading to the en suite bathroom. Upon remembering the previous night Eliza collapsed back into her feather soft pillows.

After nearly ten minutes of lying there she threw the sheets off and opened the door leading to her bathroom. It was equipped with everything anyone would ever need. Bath, shower, loo and sink. All the same though, it creeped Eliza out. Everything was so clean, so wonderfully white and pristine. It reminded her of hospitals and in turn, made her skin crawl.

Cold water gushed from the cold tap on the sink and Eliza proceeded to splash some in her face in an attempt to wake her senses up.

It didn't work.

Sighing, Eliza switched on the shower and disrobed, stepping into the rain of warm water. She rested her head against the tiled wall as the water washed over her. She didn't have to share a room, or a bathroom with anyone else, and so she could stay there for as long as she wanted as the hot water wouldn't run out. She hoped it wouldn't anyway. Hogwarts was a magical school, you would think that they had an unlimited supply of hot water.

Once Eliza had washed her hair and dried herself off she sat at the mahogany dressing table, and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She looked exactly the same as she had done every day for the past week. Every day that she'd woken up, sometimes screaming, from the same dream. Hogwarts was messing with her head.

Eyes like liquid gold stared back at her, unblinking in the mirror. Eliza had just about managed to run a brush through her hair and pulled it up in an elaborate hairstyle combining two French plaits into a bun at the base of her neck. She then carefully put her favourite pearl earrings in and looked at herself in the mirror once more. The dark shadows under her eyes were still abundantly clear.

Inside Eliza's trunk was her toiletry bag, in which was a tube of concealer. Eliza held it in her hand for a moment, thinking carefully. She looked down at it and put it down. She swung her legs round the stool and began to make her way to the door. She paused when she got to the door and turned round, heading back to the dresser. Eliza shook her head in self-disgust before carefully applying the concealer to the bags under her eyes. She looked at herself in the mirror once more and closed her eyes. When she opened them again she looked exactly the same; tired and older than she was.

She made her way up the spiral staircase that led to the common room, passing several older girls on the way. Though it was very early, there were a few people, mostly older students, already sat in the surprisingly comfortable leather armchairs and sofas. Some of them were playing wizard's chess and some were just talking. None of them paid much attention to her as she exited the common room and wandered through the labyrinth of corridors that led to the Great Hall.

Hogwarts was a maze of confusing corridors and secret passageways but Eliza had a reasonably good memory and after a week of walking the same route to and from the common room, and to her lessons, she had memorised the way to the Great Hall.

A steady stream of students, many of them first years, trickled through the ornate golden doors to begin their breakfast. Eliza cut through the crowd and seated herself halfway down the Slytherin table, ignoring the head of blonde hair, just as carefully done as her own, and the messy black one, both of which were staring in her direction.

* * *

"What do you think her issue is?" Scorpius asked curiously as the haughty brunette walked past.

Al just raised his eyebrows and looked at his friend.

"Okay, okay," he sighed. "The girl has far too many issues to identify them all." Al nodded with a roll of his eyes. "Pass the sugar."

The dark haired boy slid the sugar across the table obediently.

"What have we got today?" Al asked. Scorpius checked his timetable and groaned. Al looked up from the piece of toast he was carefully spreading with marmalade.

"History of Magic first," Scorpius answered slowly, unsure of how his friend would react.

"And then..." Al prompted him, taking a bit out of his toast.

"And then Muggle Studies with the Gryffindors," Scorpius blurted out and watched as Al was very still and silent for a moment and then his head hit the table, almost landing in Scorpius' porridge. He groaned and lifted his head.

"I don't suppose there's any chance that you can tell everyone I'm sick is there?"

"No," Scorpius told him plainly. Al let his head thump onto the table once again. "Come on Al, you're going to face her at some point. We are in the same year. Anyway, it could be worse."

Al lifted his head and turned to Scorpius with an incredulous expression on his face.

"How?" he demanded. "How could anything be worse than sitting in the same class as my cousin, who has rejected me..." he began to count on his fingers. "One, two, three, four... yep, seven times in the past four days! It's not like I have a whole house, who happen to be controlled by my family, after my guts."

Scorpius rolled his eyes. Al had a tendency to be overdramatic at times.

"They are not after your guts. They're just..." He searched around for a word to describe the Potter family and most of Gryffindor house.

"Insufferable morons who need to get their acts together," Al suggested blandly, taking a bit out of his toast.

"I-I was going to go for confused," Scorpius countered, slight confusion etched upon his face. "But your one works too." He grinned. "They'll sort themselves out eventually. I hope." He made a face and picked up his spoon.

"You are an idiot," Al told him. Scorpius just grinned.

The boys were silent for a moment, both chewing down their breakfast, when Al nodded at the blonde woman sitting at the head table.

"What do you think she's like?" he asked.

"Newberry?" Scorpius replied, frowning. "I don't know. Gemma told me that her lessons are alright, but she always favours other houses. Gryffindor in particular. It's going to be a disaster in there today." Al snorted.

"Who the hell thought that putting Gryffindor and Slytherin together for something like Muggle Studies with a Gryffindor teacher was a good idea?"

"Quidel probably got a kick out of it," Scorpius shrugged. "He seems like the kind of loon who would do that."

"I wish Grant were a bit more loony," Al grumbled. Scorpius raised his eyebrows. "What?" he asked defensively. "If Grant was, you know, more insane, then he might not give us so much homework." Al shook his head and shuddered at the thought of the pile of homework that their head of house had given them in their last Transfiguration lesson.

"He's not that bad," Scorpius said. "And the homework was pretty easy."

"For you! And that's only because you're some kind of freaky Transfiguration genius," Al pointed out.

He had been right in his impression of Professor Grant. He was not someone to cross. Strict and clever, Al had quickly discovered that he didn't suffer fools in his class. The moment they had sat down he had given them a talking to and ensured that no one would ever mess around less they be automatically failed and thereby held back a year at the very least.

"Transfiguration is one of the most complicated branches of magic that you will ever learn. If you want to succeed in my class you will listen, and you will follow my instructions to the letter, do you understand? If anyone has any objects they can leave now." Unsurprisingly nobody had left. "Good. Now, let's begin."

Then, with a flick of his wand, he turned everyone's seats into soft, comfortable leather armchairs, not dissimilar to the ones in the Slytherin common room. Everyone was slightly disgruntled when he changed them back, but they were all excited to begin. Until they realised that they wouldn't be capable of that kind of transfiguration for a long while that is. After taking a lot of complicated notes that Al barely understood Grant handed them a match each and told them to start trying to turn it into a needle.

After about two minutes of concentrating carefully Scorpius had let out a hiss of satisfaction and received a rare nod of approval from Grant who had showed them how it had gone silver and pointy.

While Scorpius had then been allowed to progress farther, the other were still stuck trying to make a difference to their matches. By the end of the lesson Scorpius was still the only one had had succeeded in turning all of his match into a needle. Like the rest of his class Al had only succeeded in transfiguring half of his needle.

Transfiguration was, as Grant had said, one of the most complicated branches of magic. The other lessons weren't nearly as tricky as Transfiguration; but there was still a lot more to them than waving your wand and saying a few words. As Al quickly found out, it was far harder than his family made it out to be.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Tuesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Thankfully Al had Scorpius to nudge him awake when he fell asleep which happened rather a lot in Astronomy.

Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology with Professor Longbottom, a friend of the Potters. Al didn't mind these lessons as much as he thought, despite being a friend of the Potters, and head of Gryffindor, Neville, or Professor Longbottom as he had to call him now, was still a great teacher and was one of the few teachers that hadn't judged him the moment he stepped into their classroom. Anyway, it was amusing to see Scorpius' reaction to trying to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and finding out what they were used for. His expression when they had to re-pot some Screeching Snaps was something that Al would never forget.

Professor Costello, the charms teacher, was by far Al's favourite teacher. She was the woman that had been talking with Professor Grant on the start of term banquet and had greeted the first year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs with a kind smile and got them started on some rather brilliant charms straight away.

The class that had fascinated Al most of all was Potions, which was one of the only things that he actually excelled in. Professor Aizimio was much like Professor Grant, strict and very clever, with a sharp wit and a sharp eye. She prowled behind the class as they carefully measured out and cut up ingredients before adding them to their cauldrons and stirring feverishly.

It was a good thing that Al had been the one in charge of the cure for boils that they were brewing in the first lesson as Scorpius was useless. And that was being kind.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was the class that everyone was looking forward to the most but as they all found out rather quickly, Professor Highclere was more interested in showing off his muscles than in teaching.

He wasn't a bad teacher. He just spent more time leaning against the wall, making the first years take notes, than he did actually teaching.

Although Al disliked Eliza intensely; she had been nothing but rude to him since the train and continued to be facetious and snide at every opportunity, when her stinging comments were aimed at someone else, in this case Professor Highclere, they were really rather amusing. She questioned everything that Highclere did, a single eyebrow arched, one leg crossed over the other, a quill in one hand, blank scrolls of parchment on her desk and a smug look constantly on her face.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, the only class that was taught by a ghost. The older Slytherins told tales of how Professor Binns had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and during the night his soul had reaped by a cloaked figure that struck fear into the hearts of all who looked upon him. Al personally felt that it someone had had their soul reaped, then they might be slightly more interesting than Binns. All he did was drone on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

The Slytherins had History of Magic in Binns' classroom in the West Tower and their lesson on Friday was the first time that Al and Scorpius finally managed to find their way up from the common room to the Great Hall for breakfast and to their first lesson without getting lost once.

There were one hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. It was always funny to watch other people forget about it and get stuck. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid wall just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all moved around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other and though he was yet to catch them, Al was almost certain that the suits of armour could walk. Scorpius was just of the opinion that all the suits of armour looked the same and that Al was insane.

The ghosts didn't really help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open and then through you. The Bloody Baron wasn't so bad, all you had to do was be polite to him and he would be quite happy to point new Slytherins in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth about four locked doors, a trick staircase and ten minutes trying to get out of the strange room on the fourth floor where everything looks exactly the same and there isn't a door if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop dungbombs in the corridor, splatter you with ink pellets, pull rugs from under your feet, unleash "portable swamps" in the corridors, set of fireworks classrooms, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Hubert Custodian.

Al and Scorpius managed to get on the wrong side of him less than three hours into their first day.

They had been coming back from Herbology, and what had started out as Scorpius sprinkling some dirt onto Al had ended up as a fully-fledged soil war covering them all in various soils, dungs and fertilizers. Custodian had caught them trailing mud throughout the castle and it was only thanks to Peeves setting off an explosion that let the pair slip into a secret passageway and hide from Custodian.

Custodian owned a cat called Mrs Norris, a scrawny, dust-coloured creature with bulging, lamp like eyes. Rumour had it that Custodian had inherited it from the previous caretaker, Mr Filch, who was just as horrible.

Mrs Norris patrolled the corridors alone. She might have been getting on in years; Al would have bet money that she was at least sixty years old, but break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she's whisk off for Custodian, who'd appear, scowling, two seconds later. Custodian knew the secret passageways of the school better than almost anyone and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs Norris a good kick. Al was pretty sure that he had seen Eliza and a couple of third year Ravenclaws flicking spit-wads at her the previous day.

After an hour and a half of taking notes on the Soap Blizzard of 1378 the first years escaped Binns' classroom and made their way to the other side of the castle for their very first Muggle Studies lesson.

"...there's just no way I'm going to be able to finish all that homework this year," Al groaned as they made their way up the spiral staircase to Muggle Studies. "It's only the first week and I'm going to be working from lunchtime all the way till midnight."

"Aren't you going to see Hagrid today," Scorpius asked, recalling Al's words from the previous night. Al groaned again.

"I completely forgot," he said. "Thank you! Hagrid should be good. You want to come?"

Scorpius bit his lip.

"No thanks," he declined politely. "He doesn't really know me, and I'm a Malfoy, and a Slytherin. I think it's probably best if I sit this one out." Al nodded.

"That's probably best," he said and groaned. "I'm going to get so behind!"

"Al it's the first week. We have ages," Scorpius reminded him as they lined up outside the classroom. Before Al could respond the door opened and a tall blonde witch stalked out. She held out an arm and the class filed in.

Al and Scorpius took seats at the back of the room, like most of the Slytherins. Professor Newberry took a seat on her desk and began by taking the register. She said most names with distaste and Al was rather surprised when she didn't curl her lip at his name. Instead she paused, her tone becoming dangerously soft. Newberry finished calling the names and looked up at her class. Al shivered slightly at her eyes. They were grey, like Scorpius', but unlike his they were cold as steel and devoid of all warmth.

"Welcome to Muggle Studies," Newberry began. She was speaking normally, in her sugars tones, but there was something about her that commanded attention. "As some of you will know, this subject was formerly an elective, but after the war –,"

"What war?" A voice interrupted. Al looked at Eliza Leytii who was doing her "one-leg-crossed-over-the-other-with-a-quill-in-one-hand-and-smug-expression-on-her-face" thing.

"Hand, Miss..."

"Leytii," Eliza provided with a smile. She raised a hand. "What war?"

"The second Wizarding War you bimbo," Rose sneered, turning around from her seat at the front of the class.

"Do I need to reiterate that I am a muggle-born?" Eliza spoke slowly and mockingly. "I didn't even know this heap of rock existed until two years ago!"

"Heap of rock!" Rose screeched. Eliza nodded.

"Indeed," she replied with a smile.

"You-you-you!" Rose stuttered, bright red in the face, bushy hair crackling, brown eyes bulging. "You harlot!"

"Harlot?" Eliza questioned. "Are we in the 1920s now?" She snorted and shook her head. "Grow up little girl! And get over yourself! Capire!" She rolled her eyes, shoved her quill, ink bottle, scrolls of parchment and From Muggles to Magic: A Beginners Guide on Muggles for the Young Wizard, the set text for Muggle Studies, into her bag, swung it over her shoulder as she stood up and walked over to the door.

"Sit down! Miss Leytii," Newberry said in a bored voice.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Eliza countered. "I'm muggle-born, I don't need to sit here for an hour listening to wizard stereotypes about muggles, or be in the same room as Weasel-queen over there for more than three minutes."

Newberry raised her eyebrows and Al turned to Scorpius who was staring at Eliza, utterly bewildered.

"Not only does it lower the IQ of the entire school when she speaks, but it also creeps me out when those ginormous beaver teeth of hers are shown." Eliza shuddered. "It makes me imagine them sinking into my neck, paralysing me instantly before she drains my blood and turns me into a taller, much more stylish, far less annoying and with a greater intelligence and wit, though sometimes more snide, version of her."

"What the hell?" Scorpius uttered, completely confused.

"That is the most disturbing image I have ever had in my mind," Al informed him, horror etched on his face.

The rest of the class was like Al and Scorpius. Their faces were a mixture of befuddlement and strange terror.

Newberry wasn't exempt.

"Did you grow up in some sort of mental asylum?" she demanded, looking much like the students.

"I'm Welsh, not insane!" Eliza huffed. She stuck her nose in the air and pushed past Newberry to exit the room.

"Leytii! Get back here this instant!" Newberry shouted down the corridor. Eliza's voice echoed back. Al couldn't quite make out what she was saying but it sounded rude.

The rest of the lesson wasn't pleasant. Thanks to Eliza's insubordination Newberry was fuming and had decided to take it out on everyone else. Particularly the Slytherins. She stood at the front of the class, a scowl on her face, dictating the notes that they took. After at least half an hour of note taking on things like muggle greetings, houses and cars, Newberry instructed them to copy out of the textbook and then answer the questions at the bottom of the page. She swept around the room, her lilac robes swishing as she walked, glancing at people's answers as they worked, at one point plucking Carmen Parks' work up, reading the words out derisively before screwing it up.

"Start again Miss Parks," she said in a falsely sweet voice. "And this time do it right!"

Carmen scowled and opened her mouth to retort but after catching the small shake of the head that Scorpius sent her way she closed it again and began her work again.

For the rest of the lesson they worked in silence, the only sound was the scratching of quills on their parchment.

After an hour had gone past a bell rang throughout the school and the room of first years eagerly shoved their books, quills and parchment into their bags and raced out of the door.

Al let a loud whoop out as soon as he reached the common room.

"Yes!" he cried. "The torture is over!"

"Get up you idiot!" Scorpius laughed. "Come on, we have work to do before you go and see Hagrid."

* * *

Al was running as he reached Hagrid's hut. He and Scorpius had been sprawled out on their beds in their dorm, homework spread in front of them. It wasn't until Scorpius had reminded him that he was supposed to be at Hagrid's that he had remembered about the appointment, even though he had been thinking about it all day. Truth be told, Al had been dreading it a little bit. At the start of term feast Hagrid had been purposely avoiding his gaze, and Al wasn't really sure if he was still invited to tea.

Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the dark, leafy expanse that was the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of wellington boots were outside the front door.

Straightening his robes and Slytherin tie Al prepared to knock on the door but his fist fell back down to his side when he heard the burst of laughter from within.

"...such an idiot!" Al knew that voice. He had grown up with it. It belonged to his childhood tormenter, more commonly known as his brother, James.

"It's his own fault."

This time it was Rose's voice that rang out.

"If he wasn't such a snake at heart then the hat wouldn't have put him in Slytherin." The sneer that was surely upon her face was evident in her voice. "I think we should just send him to Coventry."

"Why would we send him to Birmingham?" another voice asked. Al recognised it as Freddie's.

"It means you won't talk or acknowledge me," Al said scathingly, pushing the door open and letting his cousins' eyes go wide as they realised that he was there.

"How long have you been there?"

It was Victoire.

"Long enough," Al said, shaking his head and letting out a harsh laugh. "You know, the funny thing is, I actually thought that you might stand by me. You're my family. But I guess that what the sorting hat says is more important than your own flesh and blood. So, I'm sorry."

"What for?" Dominique asked.

"For following my heart," Al bit out. "You know, the sorting hat gave me a choice. And I picked Slytherin."

Al felt a jolt of satisfaction at the horrified and stunned faces around him.

"I'll see you around," he choked out before slamming the door shut. Al sank down against it, tears filling his eyes.

He shook his head, determination shining through in his pale face. Once he was on his feet Al made his way over the castle grounds to the castle. He descended the stairs to the Slytherin common room, only taking three wrong turns on the way, and entered his dorm.

Scorpius had moved off of his bed and was hanging upside down from the sofa. He wasn't tall enough for his blonde head to reach the floor but he had so much gel in his hair that it didn't flop at all. Al stared for a moment, his troubles forgotten in the face of his friend's strange position. Upon seeing Al, Scorpius grinned and swung his legs round so that he was lying on the sofa.

"Why are you back so early?" he asked.

"Turns out that Hagrid had invited my family there to talk about how much of an idiot I am," Al sighed, flopping onto the other sofa. Scorpius cringed and Al nodded. "Yeah, not going back there for a while."

"Well, think of it this way," Scorpius said optimistically. "Now you don't have to feel any guilt when you smash them to pieces on the Quidditch Pitch."

A laugh escaped Al's lips, and he shook his head at Scorpius. Though his face was lit up with a smile Al felt hollow inside.

* * *

The common room was abandoned. The brass lamps hanging from the ceiling had been dimmed and even the normally crackling fire under the elaborate mantelpiece had faded away to its final glowing embers.

Albus Potter sat in a tall, wing-backed armchair facing the dying fire. His eyes were closed. When Al opened them they were far duller than their normal emerald green. Glancing down at his lap Al saw nothing.

Literally, nothing. Resting in his lap was the cloak that his father had given him the day before they left for Hogwarts. It was beautiful. Silvery grey and fluid, it was adorned with strange Celtic symbols and almost weightless. Al stroked a hand over it, the smooth material like water through his fingers. He knew the importance of it. It had been in his family for centuries, ever since the thirteenth century Dad said. Passed down from father to son, mother to daughter, the invisibility cloak had eight hundred years of history within its silky threads.

Memories washed over Al.

_Playing in the garden at the age of three._

_Watching his very first Quidditch match._

_Zooming around on a toy broom._

_The excitement he had felt when he was given his very first real broom._

_Swimming in the river with his cousins._

_Wind whistling through his hair as he raced his brother on the school field._

_Joy as he won his first race, and then so many others._

_Rushes of adrenaline as he jumped from the roof into the back garden alongside his brother._

_The feeling when his father had handed him the invisibility cloak and the soft, silky feeling of it when it rested in his lap._

Al's head snapped up.

He could hear footsteps behind him. It was coming from the door to the girls' dormitories. Al shrank down into the chair, allowing the invisibility cloak to cover as much of him as possible without being noticed.

The footsteps were getting nearer and Al pulled farther into his cloak until he was completely covered. Whomever the footsteps belonged to walked right past Al and out of the common room. Al hesitated for a moment and then slid off the chair, making sure that the cloak was completely covering him. He darted out of the common room, just as the stone door was beginning to slide back into place.

A cloak covered the figure, but the person wearing it was relatively small, they couldn't be older than a second year.

They led Al through a labyrinth of tunnels, the portraits on the walls snoozing happily. A light from the figure's wand lit the way ahead, and on occasion someone in one of the portraits would wake and hiss at the figure to "put that light out!"

After nearly ten minutes Al began to realise where they were going. The figure was headed through the passages that led to the astronomy tower. But why would anyone be going to the astronomy tower at this time of night?

Just as Al was musing over this he heard a sound. It was like someone had just opened a door.

"Who's there?" a deep voice demanded. Al sucked in a breath and flattened himself against the wall. The cloaked figure ahead turned and gasped.

Footsteps pounded on the floor and all Al could do was watch as another cloaked figure raced past him aiming for the first figure.

He, for it was certainly a he, powered towards the first figure. Like Al the figure was frozen until the clearly powerfully built man crashed into them. A groan of pain escaped their lips and they scrambled to their feet, clutching their stomach. They leaned against the wall for a moment, catching their breath.

The muscular man groaned and lurched up, attempting to grab the other figure by the neck. They were too fast though, darting away quickly. The man staggered to his feet and raced after the figure, grumbling to himself.

Al's chest heaved as he looked at the place where the two figures had collided. He could go after them of course, but right now, all he wanted to do was sleep.

The trip back to the Slytherin common room seemed to take no time at all, probably because Al was too caught up in what just happened with the two figures to notice where his feet were taking him.

His bed was just as he left it. Soft, comfortable and silky. Al had stowed the invisibility cloak away in his trunk and collapsed back into bed, no idea what to do. The feather pillows were too soft under his head, and Al was just uncomfortable. He tossed and turned, Scorpius' gentle, rhythmic snores doing nothing to help him get to sleep. The silk felt cold and slippery on his skin, and Al wanted his soft cotton duvet back.

There was almost no light in the room. Only the blue light coming from Al's alarm clock could traverse the darkness that came lapping at the windows from the black lake.

A sigh escaped Al's lips as he turned onto his side. He had not recognised the voice of the man, and it had been too dark to see him properly...

The other cloaked figure though. Al knew who that was. When the man had grabbed for them their hood had fallen down and Al had caught a glimpse of their face as they ran down the corridor. He recognised them easily. After all, there was only one person at Hogwarts who had long, dark curls, olive skin, high cheekbones and a pair of wide, golden eyes. Eliza Leytii.

**So that's it, chapter 5. I hope you all enjoyed it, and want to carry on reading =D**


	6. Capulets and Montagues

**It's been a while and I've been really busy with school work, netball matches and rowing events but here it is, chapter 7. It's my longest one yet and I hope you all enjoy it and review! ;p**

Hogwarts wasn't the paradise of magic and learning that Al had imagined. He had spent years dreaming of the castle and what he would do there, the friends that he would make and the adventures that he would have. What actually happened wasn't as wonderful as the fantasies, and on some days, like the Thursday five weeks into term, Al wished that reality would be taken over by his fantasies. They were, after all, so much more pleasant.

Lessons had been getting steadily more interesting as the weeks went by but they were still stuck on the basics and it was beginning to wear on Al.

The worst lessons were the ones that they shared with the other houses. He might have been rather biased, but anyone, including Al, could see that the Slytherins really were the most talented group in the year.

Scorpius had taken Transfiguration, while Al excelled in Potions. They were roughly even in most other subjects, generally near the top of the class, only falling below in certain subjects that they struggled with. The other Slytherins weren't far behind them, and certain people, Eliza Leytii, could easily beat them in some things. Al had never seen anyone quite as adept at Charms as she was, and she had a knack for the trickier spellwork that the others struggle with. She was still rather insufferable though.

Al and Scorpius were sat at the Slytherin table for breakfast when the owls swooped in with the mail. The first time they had done that, Al had nearly jumped out of his skin, he had never seen such an incredible sight before, hundreds of owls all swooping in at once. It was mesmerising.

Once again, Al had no mail. He hadn't had any since his father had written at the start of term telling him that he would see him at Christmas. Scorpius received letters and packages of sweets and cakes from his parents at least twice a week. The Slytherin first years had been enjoying a variety of sweets and cakes for weeks.

As Scorpius bit into a muffin and gave a cursory glance of the Daily Prophet that had just landed in front of him, emptying five small bronze coins into the owl's pouch before it flew off, most of the other first years arrived. Al and Scorpius were usually among the first up, the only person who was ever up before them was Eliza Leytii, and she usually ignored everyone else while she ate.

On Thursday mornings the Slytherins were supposed to have Charms, Transfiguration and double History of Magic followed by Defence Against the Dark Arts and Herbology. For four weeks they had followed this pattern but on Monday Scorpius had spotted a notice pinned in the Slytherin common room. It was a bittersweet notice. Flying lessons would be starting that week – and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Typical," Al groaned darkly. "I get to make a fool of myself in front of my cousin, who incidentally hates me. Faaantastic!"

Scorpius had simply rolled his eyes. He was used to Al's melodrama by now.

"You won't make a fool of yourself," Scorpius pointed out. "Al, you're brilliant! You made the reserves didn't you? Besides," he said quite reasonably. "Rose can't mock you. I bet that she can't even fly without screaming."

Al sighed.

"I guess," he muttered. "But I was supposed to get into the team first year. My dad did. James did. Lily will. It's just the way things work in my family."

"Well then," Scorpius said impetuously. "Things need to change."

Al snorted.

"I guess," he sighed. "But Potters don't lose. And especially not to Malfoys."

He wasn't bitter. Not exactly. Al knew that Scorpius was the better flier and deserved to be on the team far more than he did, and he had made the reserve team after all, but there was just something about being beaten by a boy he had been told to hate for his entire life that grated with him. Al knew that it wasn't Scorpius's fault. If the positions had been reversed then he was certain that his blonde friend would feel exactly the same.

The rest of their year was extremely excited about flying. Almost everyone talked about it at a near constant. Some first years complained about the houses Quidditch teams being biased so that it was a lot more difficult for first years to get on the team. Those were generally the ones who told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end in ridiculous events like Muggle helicopters narrowly missing them. It tended to be the Gryffindors who told those stories. One boy in particular, Kyle McLaggen, had told at least fourteen different versions of the time that he was flying and he had to protect a skydiver from being hit by bludgers. Al didn't know what a skydiver was until Eliza Leytii scathingly replied to McLaggen that gravity existed in the Muggle world and that skydivers wouldn't be hovering in the air attempting to dodge cannonballs.

Al quite liked her at that point. Until she announced that everyone else was an idiot and by even opening their mouths they were lowering the IQ of England that was.

Everyone from a wizarding family was familiar with Quidditch and flying. Even the muggle-borns knew some things about it; even if they disagreed about it being the best sport in the world. The whole school had witnessed McLaggen attempt to beat up a muggle-born Hufflepuff for saying that football was better.

Apparently McLaggen couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly.

Privately Al agreed. In his primary school days he had played a few games but never really enjoyed it. He would never admit that out loud though. That would be embarrassing.

Once the two boys had finished eating they began to make their way up to Charms on the third floor.

Several people were already waiting outside of their Charms classroom. Only one of them was actually in their class though. It seemed as if Eliza Leytii was meeting with her older brother and his friends.

When they were stood next to each other, Al could really see the resemblance between the Leytii siblings. They didn't just share the same eyes; they had the same face shape, cheekbone structure, chin, nose and mouth. Their hair was the same shade of rich praline brown and while Eliza's hair was much longer the pair shared the same curls. Alex Leytii was taller, with broader shoulders and clearly more muscular than his sister but he had the same haughty, catlike quality to his stance and though the look of superiority on his face wasn't as great as the on Eliza's pretty face, it was still there, along with the lazy, careless smirk that stretched across Eliza's face almost permanently.

There was something curious about the Leytii siblings. Something that Al couldn't put his finger on.

After several minutes of standing around, the other Slytherins, and the Hufflepuffs that they shared their class with, began drifting towards the classroom. A moment later Professor Costello came out and with a cheerful smile welcomed the first years into her classroom and waved Alex Leytii and his Ravenclaw friends away.

The day went by slowly. Charms was mostly theoretical, but Professor Costello had split them up into pairs and Al was paired with the charming Eliza Leytii who had given him a withering look before taking control and ordering him about. Transfiguration wasn't much better, only Scorpius got the hang of switching spells, and History of Magic was as boring as ever. Al was fairly certain that nobody in the class was actually awake for at least an hour and a half of the lesson.

Once they had had lunch, Al, Scorpius and the other Slytherins strolled down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. Not that it was really necessary for most of them, but it would certainly be nice to show off a little.

It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass was rippling underfoot as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

Several of the Gryffindors were already there, and nearly fifty broomsticks were lying in neat lines on the ground. Al knew that the school brooms were terrible. They hadn't been updated for about thirty years and they had been dreadful twenty years ago. It was a bit of a joke to the older Slytherins. They laughed at people who tried to use the school brooms, after all, some of them would shudder uncontrollably if you flew too high, or would drag dramatically to the left.

Madame Euphorie, their teacher arrived moments later. She was tall and athletic looking with reddish brown hair and a ruddy face. Her eyes were a steely blue and she focused them on the students that were there.

When the other Gryffindors arrived she clapped her hands.

"Stand by a broom everyone!"

The divide between the two houses was blatantly obvious as they lined up opposite each other, heads held high, eyes narrowed and fists clenched.

Al found himself facing a skinny blonde boy with an unturned nose that was called Horatio Smith. He was pretty much the most annoying person in the year, if not in the entire school. Al didn't hate him, per say, he just wished that he couldn't open his mouth. Like ever.

"You would think that this place could afford better brooms," Smith sneered, eyeing up the brooms.

"Shame you won't be able to get your massive head off the ground, even on a state of the art broom," Scorpius countered. Several of the Slytherins snickered. Al raised his eyebrows at his friend who simply shrugged. "He winds me up."

"At least he didn't have to buy his way onto the Quidditch team," Rose interjected.

"Scorpius didn't buy his way on!" Al defended his friend. "He got in on the pure talent that you and your..." He struggled for a word.

"Sycophants," Eliza suggested helpfully. Al didn't know what a sycophant was, but it was a good word all the same, and it was probably the nicest thing Eliza had ever done for him.

"Sycophants will never have!" he retorted, sending a look of thanks at Eliza who simply shrugged.

"They are not sycophants!" Rose screeched, her hair crackling with electricity.

"Hate to break it to you sweetheart," Eliza interjected, stepping forward. "But they really are just mindless sycophants who don't have enough brainpower to realise that they're nothing but puppets on the string of a far more intelligent life form. I congratulate you Weasel queen, it seems as if you know when your quest for brilliance is fruitless and pointless as you will never be any better than the ridiculous ginger waste of space that you are." She smiled sweetly. "It's good to know that you've found acceptance."

Al was rather enjoying the colours that Rose's face was turning. Eventually she settled on a furious purple, sucked in a deep breath and charged Eliza.

Though Eliza looked surprised she nimbly jumped out of the way when Rose reached her, sending the redhead sprawling in the grass.

Everyone in Slytherin was laughing now, loudly and with mocking in several voices.

"Hey!" Chantelle Du Bois, a girl with white blonde hair and an abnormally large pair of ears, cried out. "You can't do that to her."

"What are you going to do about it?" Eliza challenged.

Chantelle was lost for a moment, but then a determined expression appeared on her face and she plunged her hand into her robes and pulled out her wand.

In one movement the entire Slytherin agglomeration had their wands out.

"Put your wands away!" Madame Euphorie ordered, but no one did as they were told.

In the few seconds that it had taken for her to realise that the Slytherins weren't going to back down, the Gryffindors had their wands out too.

Al bit his lip. They were outnumbered by the Gryffindors. In a proper duel, where they actually knew some good spells, the Slytherins would win by sheer craftiness and brilliance. Al was confident in that. But they were still first years and unlikely to be able to do any real damage, so it would probably end up as a Muggle brawl in the mud. And though the Slytherins were devious, the brute strength of the extra Gryffindors was likely to be the winning factor.

It was McLaggen who shot the first spell.

He aimed at Eliza and shouted his spell, red sparks flashing at her. Eliza merely arched an eyebrow and with a flick of her wand, McLaggen toppled over, his legs suddenly stuck together. A triumphant smirk spread across her face.

That was when chaos descended. Every Gryffindor and Slytherin let their spells fly, boils and spots popping up in places that Al would rather not think about, people falling to the ground and sparks flying as they yelled and screamed at each other. After a short while, as Al had predicted, it descended into a Muggle brawl, with mud being smeared everywhere, screams emanating from mouths and a blur of robes, fists and the occasional spell taking over.

Al dodged a spell sent at him by someone. He wasn't sure if it was a Slytherin or a Gryffindor, but it was a powerful spell, he could tell that by the way that Jason went down as it hit him. Scorpius winced as a dark haired Gryffindor boy sent him flying.

"Aaaarrrrgggghhhhh!"

A fist slammed into the side of Al's head making stars wink before his eyes. His head was spinning and the world was flashing in and out of focus.

"ENOUGH!"

Everybody froze. Madame Euphorie was advancing on them, fire burning in her eyes. Not a single person dared to move an inch as their instructor got closer and closer.

"How DARE you disrupt my lesson!" she bellowed. "You will all receive detention for a month!"

Normally there would be a loud groan of complaint but seeing as Madame Euphorie was fuming and was likely to up that detention amount for a year if they let out so much as a whisper in protest. While idiots like James might have been happy with that, nobody in Gryffindor or Slytherin wanted a whole year of detention.

"Now get the HELL out of my sight!"

The first years began moving away immediately. Al offered Scorpius a hand up and his blonde friend pulled himself to his feet shaking dirt out of his now messy locks. The pair began to walk away.

"Not you two!"

Al and Scorpius turned around.

"You two are coming with me." The boys exchanged looks. "Weasley, McLaggen, Smith, you too!" The apprehension in Al's face turned into a smirk as the three Gryffindors turned around looking stunned. "And don't think that you're getting out of this either Leytii."

From slightly ahead of Al and Scorpius, Eliza turned around with a small groan. She plastered a smile on her face but it didn't quite work as her elaborate hairdo had come partially undone and her dark curls were coated in mud. The sticky mud was also splashed on her cheeks and she seemed to have lost an earring.

The other Gryffindors and Slytherins formed an isle of sorts as Madame Euphorie marched the six first years up to the castle. Some faces were gleeful and triumphant, while others were disappointed or worried.

Fear lurched in Al's stomach. He knew he wasn't going to be expelled, Hogwarts didn't expel people for getting into fights, not when half of the entire year group was involved.

At the same time though, he wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his voice. Madame Euphorie was sweeping along, her own robes spattered with mud, without looking back at the six students. On occasion McLaggen attempted to bump into the two Slytherin boys but Scorpius jabbed him in the ribs with one of his skinny elbows making the much bigger boy contort his facial features in pain.

They went up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside and continued up several more flights of stairs. Madame Euphorie maintained her silence all the way. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with the first years walking miserably behind her. Al had never been through this route before but he knew instinctively that Madame Euphorie was taking them to see the Headmaster. His stomach twisted as he imagined Professor Quidel's face. For some strange reason Al felt the need to impress the Headmaster more than any other teacher.

Madame Euphorie stopped in front of a huge metal statue. Al knew that it had once been a stone griffin but the statue in front of him now was shaped like a phoenix. The metal that it was made of was had been cut and shaped into a magnificent bird with millions of tiny feathers intricately woven into wings. In place of eyes there seemed to be a set of glittering rocks that changed colour as the light hit it. Al stared, there was something familiar about the statue and he could have sworn that he had seen those diamonds before, in a time when there had been three. Sat side by side on plush blue velvet cushions or set into a golden crown which was perched atop a beautiful head with high cheekbones and lovely lips, a face that Al would never be able to forget...

Scorpius nudged Al and he blinked, the vision or whatever it had been vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

Madame Euphorie had said something and the phoenix statue had rotated, revealing a stone staircase. It was moving smoothly like an escalator and Al heard Eliza gasp in amazement at the sight. Eliza's arrogance and carelessness about magic and her brilliance with it sometimes made Al forget how new she was to this world.

The six first years were ushered onto the staircase and when Madame Euphorie stepped on the phoenix statue returned to its original position. They moved higher and higher in circles until at last, a gleaming oak door with a brass knocker appeared up ahead.

They had reached Quidel.

Madame Euphorie knocked smartly on the door and a voice inside called "Enter!"

When the door open Al looked around in fascination. He didn't know much about Quidel. Anything in fact. Nobody seemed to know anything about him. One thing was certain though; of all the teacher's offices Al had visited so far this year, Quidel's was by far the most interesting.

Professor Grant liked his office perfectly neat and orderly. Much like Scorpius in fact. He had everything organised by colour and alphabetically within that organisation. It was mind numbingly boring to go into Grant's office for falling asleep and not actually getting any work done in his lesson, and that wasn't just because his lectures made you want to scratch your own eyes out with a quill.

Other teacher, like Professor Costello, liked things slightly messier. Her office was still organised, but less pedantically.

Some teachers, Professor Longbottom for instance, enjoyed chaos. Plants, books, sheaves of parchment, ink bottles, letters, quill and student's homework littered his desk and the floor of his office. Needless to say, Al rather enjoyed it in there. When he hadn't been using dragon dung as fertiliser that was.

The room was large and circular and beautiful was the only way to describe it. The room that they had entered initially had walls decorated with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses most of whom had fallen silent as they entered. Bookshelves lined with hundreds of books were pressed against the wall. Quidel was clearly an avid reader as stacks of books that could not fit onto the bookshelves were placed around the room. In the centre of that particular room was a large desk behind which sat Quidel. He was working at something but put his quill down when he saw the first years enter.

That circular room connected to another; and that one seemed to be more formal. Two enormous sofas took up the majority of the room, and much like the first room, bookshelves lined the walls. These ones went all the way up the walls though, and there was a ladder connected to the shelves.

Even more books were piled up in there. There was a balcony above the living room style area and upon it was a strange chair that looked out of an enormous window. Maps of the stars decorated the walls up there, and Al took it to be Quidel's private astronomy tower.

"Madame Euphorie," Quidel said, standing up. "What can I do for you?"

"I want you to punish these six miscreants for disrupting my flying lesson," Euphorie said through gritted teeth. "They were the ones who started the fight that got all forty-seven of them detention for a month and I want them to be dealt with by you personally."

"Of course Madame Euphorie," Quidel replied smoothly. "You are free to go while I deal with these six."

Euphorie nodded her head, turned sharply on her heel and exited the room.

Quidel was still standing up. He was observing the six of them carefully.

"Take a seat," he said gesturing to the set of sofas in the second room. The first years slowly made their way there and they each took a seat, the Slytherins facing the Gryffindors stonily. Quidel smiled gently as he followed them. With a flick of his wand a stylish armchair appeared and he seated himself comfortably in it.

"Would anyone care for some tea?" he asked, waving his wand.

A china tea set floated over and Quidel busied himself with making tea. When he was done, he handed one to each of the six students sat in front of him.

Eliza was the first to take a sip of her tea. She blew on it gently before tipping it into her mouth.

"Jun shan Yin Zhen?" she said in surprise. Everyone turned to look at her. Al didn't have a clue what she was talking about, and by the look on the others' faces they didn't either.

"You recognise it?" Quidel asked her and she nodded, taking another sip.

"It's delicious," she replied. "I normally prefer white teas like Bai Mudan, but this is absolutely lovely."

"Well then, do drink up Miss Leytii. I must say though, it's surprising to find one so young who recognises the delicacies in the native Chinese palate." Eliza smiled slightly.

"I lived in Beijing for over a year when I was eight," she informed him. "I learned a lot while I was there, and I came to enjoy their customs and their refreshments while I was there."

"Fascinating." Quidel leaned closer to Eliza, studying her. Instead of moving backwards as Al would have done, she only copied Quidel's movement, leaning closer. They tilted their heads to the left, then to the right, completely in sync. Their eyes searched each other's faces with open curiosity. Eventually they both leaned back, and at the same time the right corner of their lips twitched up in a smirk and they let out a laugh.

"Not bad Professor," Eliza grinned.

Al and Scorpius looked at her in amazement. It was the first genuine smile they had ever seen on her face. There was no malice, no sarcasm and no mocking present there, she was actually smiling. Quidel must be a miracle worker if he could make her smile.

"Why thank you Miss Leytii," Quidel replied before turning back to everyone. "Now then. We need to sort out your punishments."

"I don't see why we should get punishments!" Rose objected. "It was that lot that started it." Quidel raised an eyebrow.

"Really Miss Weasley?"

"It was not us!" Scorpius put in. "Smith decided that the brooms were not up to his standard..."

"And then my darling cousin," Al said faking a smile. "Started insulting him. We might have sent a few retorts back, but it was McLaggen who threw the first spell."

"It wasn't even a good one," Eliza muttered. Quidel shot her a mildly amused look and she shrugged.

"You are such a cow!" Rose hissed angrily. "This is all your fault you horrendous cow. None of this would have happened if it weren't for you."

"Okay," Eliza objected. "Number one: there is no logic to that. How can it possibly be my fault? And number two: if you want to appropriate blame, then you might want to look closer to home." Rose's eyes bulged and she opened her mouth to respond.

"Enough," Quidel ordered. "I understand that you are young and you can get caught up in house rivalries very easily but while you are in my office, in my sanctum sanctorum –"

"That means that this office is his holy place," Eliza interjected, receiving a disapproving look from Quidel.

"You will not engage in such trivial pursuits," Quidel finished. "You will attend Madame Euphorie's detentions with the rest of your classmates and you will also serve extra detentions as a punishment for starting the altercation. Now get out of my office. And for the love of all that is holy, try not to start another war on the way down."

* * *

"She is so horrible," Nico Vermont muttered.

"Totally," Saskia Phillips agreed.

All eighteen of the Slytherin first years sat on the sofas turned to look at the only Slytherin first year who was not sat among them.

"I don't get it," Scorpius said. "She was one of us earlier, and now she's blanking us."

"Maybe she has her reasons," Al suggested. Everyone turned to look at him. Silence hung in the air for several moments. Then they all burst out laughing.

It was nearly eight o'clock in the evening and after their first detention with Madame Euphorie they first year Slytherins had gathered in their common room to talk. Al and Scorpius had just finished their tale of Quidel's office, their extra punishments and what had happened once the door to the headmaster's office had closed.

Or to be specific, the brush off the two boys had received from their fellow Slytherin as soon as they went to talk to her in a friendly manner. That had been hurtful to say the least.

"We should be nice," Al gasped for breath between laughs.

"Why should we?" Carmen Parks asked. "She's horrible to us."

"So, we shouldn't sink to her level," Al sighed, once again gazing at the golden eyes beauty who was stood by the panoramic windows, gazing out at the lake.

For once, all the hatred and the anger was gone and her face had gone slack, peace and weariness taking over. Eliza had cleaned her dark curls thoroughly and for the first time she had allowed them to spill down her back, all the way to the base of her spine. Her torso was encased in a soft blue jumper and she had her arms wrapped around herself in what seemed like a protective gesture.

If Al had not returned his gaze to the main group, and if he had been paying close attention, he may have seen the tear that trickled down Eliza's cheek.

The silk hangings of his four poster might be beautiful and feel like water running through his fingers but they weren't doing much to help him sleep. Normally, even if he couldn't sleep, Scorpius's soft snores and shallow breaths would lull him to the land of sleep eventually. But that night, he simply couldn't find the tiredness inside his bones that would allow him to rest his eyes.

Al slid fluidly out of his bed and pulled his a cloak from the end of his bed. The cloak went over his shoulders, and making sure that he was completely covered Al exited his dorm room, taking care not to wake his slumbering friend.

When he reached the common room, Al found that it was completely empty, as it was most nights. The fire had been extinguished and the brass lamps that hung from the ceilings had been dimmed to their very lowest. Shadows leaped out from the walls, windows and the furniture. While the water lapping against the glass of the panoramic windows was normally soothing, Al was all on his own in the common room and the noise seemed to echo around the room; reminding Al of all the irrational fears he had held as a young child. Strange noises and darkness had always frightened him.

He was padding across the stone floor when he heard the noise. It was a clipping noise; the sound of shoes walking carefully across the floor. A swishing noise that sounded much like a cloak followed soon after.

The silver door to the girls' dorm room opened with a creak and a tall figure stepped out. The hood of her cloak was not up, and even in the dim light her eyes shone proudly like liquid gold. It was Eliza.

Many a night, when Al couldn't sleep, he came down to the common room and shortly afterwards Eliza would either enter or depart from the common room. Apparently this time she was departing.

She checked the common room slowly, to see if anyone was following her. Al shrank back into the shadows, hiding from her. Once Eliza was satisfied that she was not being followed, she set off across the room, her curls bouncing as she went.

Al bit his lip in hesitation. He wanted to follow Eliza, he really did. They girl was a mystery wrapped up in a riddle wrapped up in a defensive layer of barbed insults. If he could discover where she went, then he may be able to discover more about her. At the same time though, she could be the one to discover him. Al cursed himself silently. He had been such an idiot. Most nights he grabbed his invisibility cloak just to make sure that he wasn't caught, but there had been a chill in the air and so instead Al had grabbed his emerald green cloak, make from thick wool, soft and warm. He could always go back for it, Al supposed. But by that time Eliza would probably be gone, and he would be left with no answers.

Rash, spur of the moment decisions were the sort of decisions that Gryffindors made, not Slytherins. Every Slytherin first year was told that at the beginning of the year. Snakes were sly, they thought things through, gathered backup and then proceeded in a subtle way that was sure to succeed with minimum repercussions for the Slytherin side.

But Al wasn't a Snake. Not really. Though he wore the green and silver of his house he had grown up in a Gryffindor household, and he held their beliefs in his heart, not matter how badly he was treated by his family.

He was following Eliza.

Al darted out of the common room and shadowed Eliza all the way down the corridor. He had to keep close to the wall so that Eliza wouldn't see him. He didn't doubt for one minute that she wouldn't even hesitate to punch him, hex him, or hang him upside down by his ankles, enjoying his pain as all the blood rushed to his head.

Eliza had taken a strange route. She dived in and out of secret passages, opened doors that looked like blank walls and pushed tapestries aside to enter dark tunnels. She held her wand out in front of her, the tip illuminated and spilling bright light onto the portrait clad walls. On occasion someone in the paintings would tell her to "put that light out!" Eliza, of course, ignored their complaints and carried on without looking back.

The Astronomy tower. That was where Eliza was headed. Her strange, wandering route had taken them on a long journey around the school so that up to now Al hadn't known where Eliza was leading him.

Once or twice on the trip Al thought that he might have heard a noise from behind him, but when he looked behind to check whether someone was following him there was no one there.

Al followed Eliza up the winding stairs of the Astronomy tower and waited. He was stood underneath the main astronomy tower floor, gazing through the gaps in the stairs at Eliza. She had removed her cloak and simply dropped to her knees, her bright eyes half open.

For a good half hour Eliza remained there, her head bowed and hands clasped together on her knees. Once or twice Al saw her lips moving silently, in a prayer perhaps. But that was all Eliza did. In all the time that Al had wondered about her, wanted to know what she was up to and wanted to know her, never had he imagined that she would be praying. Al had never personally prayed. He understood that in the muggle world they had deities that they called by different names, depending on their religion. He had never imagined Eliza to be at all religious though.

Eliza's activities, or lack thereof, and the fact that it was nearing midnight and Al was yet to receive any sleep from this night meant that Al dozed off.

It was dark. He had managed to fall asleep standing up and he had slid down the wall slightly. The muttering sounds from above him had woken him up.

Al frowned.

Eliza had vanished and in her place two men stood, the hoods of their cloaks covering their faces so that Al couldn't see. Al's heart seemed to have jumped into his throat. He didn't recognise either one of the two men, and that made them dangerous. What could two unknown men be doing on the astronomy tower in the middle of the night? What was Al doing on the astronomy tower in the middle of the night?

"...it is here?" one of the men asked. He was taller than the other, and wore a jet black cloak embroidered with strange symbols, also in black.

Had he not be so curious and fearful of the two men, Al would have admired his taste in cloaks.

"Positive," the other man answered. His cloak was navy blue and more obviously elaborate, with gold embroidery hemming the cloak, its sleeves and the hood.

"Can you get to it?"

"It will take a while, but I am certain that we can uncover it."

Uncover what? Al was confused. Maybe if he had heard the start of the conversation, he would understand, but he had not been awake for that part.

"You have the map still?" Black Cloak asked seriously.

"It is hidden in my quarters," Blue Cloak replied. "Somewhere none of the students will discover it."

Students? But that meant that this person was at Hogwarts. As a teacher.

"Good," Black Cloak said, nodding his head. "You cannot let it leave your possession. It is the only clue to what we seek. With it we shall crush the very spirit of this school, and it shall be ours!"

Al held his breath as Black Cloak turned on his heel and practically flew down the stairs. He was breathing heavily, his eyes wide and all blood drained from his face. Terror coursed through his body, the adrenalin rush he had felt at first, when he had followed Eliza, had faded and now fear filled him, encompassing his entire body. It welled up inside him and Al could feel his heart pumping much faster, bright lights practically spinning around his head.

Blue Cloak had been making his way down the stairs when he suddenly froze. It was then that Al realised he must have been making rather a lot of noise.

He backed up against the wall, pressing his thin frame in as far as it would go and attempted to slow down his beating heart and gasping breaths to no avail. His hands were splayed, palm down on the wall, and his eyes were tightly closed. Blue Cloak was getting closer and closer, his footsteps down the stairs echoing around the tower.

A hand covered Al's mouth and he tried to scream but the arm that the hand was attached to was pulling him towards something. Al's eyes widened when he realised what that something was. His invisibility cloak.

Scorpius was there.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Al hissed.

"Saving your stupid face," Scorpius replied in a whisper, making sure that the cloak was covering them both. "Now shut up!"

Normally Al would have argued playfully with his friend, but he understood Scorpius' need for him to shut up. He didn't want to be caught either.

The man in the blue cloak was had been moving steadily towards them and now he was less than half a metre away. Al and Scorpius shrank back but it was no use, Blue Cloak was getting closer, and closer until Al could actually feel his breath on his face. The two boys held their breath, waiting, desperately hoping that the man wouldn't get any closer. If he did they would be discovered, and Al hated to think of what fate might befall them.

"Who's there?" Blue Cloak murmured.

Al shot a terrified look at Scorpius who looked helplessly back.

There was a hoot. Al, Scorpius and Blue Cloak all turned to look at the silvery grey owl that was fluttering above them. It was Titania. Al breathed a sigh of relief and glanced at Scorpius.

"Ridiculous owl," Blue Cloak muttered. He shot a murderous look at the owl and stalked off.

Though Blue Cloak had gone, Al and Scorpius remained in their positions for several moments. Al sighed and went over to his owl, stroking her head and letting her nibble on his ear before sending her off to the Owlery once again.

"I hate you," Scorpius informed his friend. Al nodded.

"Yeah, I would hate me too," he answered. "Thanks, by the way. You saved me."

"I know," Scorpius sighed. "If you ever do that to me again, I will hit you. That's the closest I've ever been to, you know, dying."

On a normal day Al would tell Scorpius that he was being melodramatic, but having witnessed that conversation between the two hooded men, he was quite capable of believing that had Blue Cloak discovered them, they would be dead.

"Come on, let's go back to bed." Scorpius nodded in agreement, and the two boys left the astronomy tower, carefully avoiding being scene. Their journey down was uneventful, both of them too terrified to speak.

* * *

It was Al who gave the password when they reached the blank stretch of wall that led to their common room. It was still dark in there, but the house elves had obviously been in and lit the fire as it was crackling away merrily, oblivious to the, slightly subsided since the tower incident, dread coursing through Al and Scorpius' bodies.

Almost as soon as his head hit his pillow Al fell asleep. Scorpius on the other hand...

Well, he lay awake for the rest of the night, the events that had taken place echoing through his mind. While Al had been asleep, and drooling, for the first part of the two men's conversation (now that had been funny, if only he'd had a camera on him at the time), Scorpius had not only seen them arrive, he had heard every single worrying word that the two cloaked men had said. He really wished that he hadn't. The memory wasn't the most pleasant.

Blue Cloak had arrived first, not even noticing Al's slumbering figure, and stood there for a good ten minutes before Black Cloak had arrived. They had spoken in dark tones about secret passages into the castle and a map, a map that it had taken them years to discover. Apparently it had led them from a distant country all the way to Hogwarts. Black Cloak had laughed in hatred fuelled tones about what he would do to the grand and ancient school that Scorpius resided in. Shivers ran up his spine just thinking about what the two would do. They had been waiting for years to gain access to the school and now they had got what they always wanted. It was really rather unsettling.

Scorpius was usually asleep when Al awoke, but the morning after the astronomy tower incident he was awake and ready to go when his friend and roommate got up.

Usually immaculate in appearance Scorpius looked tired with dark shadows under his eyes. His hair was slightly messy, and his grey eyes weren't sharp and alert as they normally were. Scorpius felt tired too. He hadn't felt this exhausted, emotionally and physically, since he had fallen off his broom and landed in the lake at his cousin's house several years ago.

He staggered through the day as he did most of the time, barely paying attention at all; even in his favourite subject Transfiguration. For the first time ever in Transfiguration Scorpius failed to succeed first, to the great surprise of Professor Grant and all of his classmates.

Grant held him behind while the others went on their way to History of Magic and gently asked him if he was all right. He nodded slowly and explained that he hadn't slept well the previous night before assuring his favourite professor that he would recover very soon and that yes, he could do his detention tonight, unfortunately.

Instead of going to History of Magic Scorpius made his way out to the Quidditch pitch and grabbed his broom from the Slytherin broom cupboard. Scorpius then spent the next hour or so flying around, letting the wind whistle through his hair and his mind go blank. He knew that his friend liked to read when he was upset, but he preferred the exhilaration that came with flying. It had always been the only think that helped him when he was upset.

After he felt that he had cleared his mind successfully Scorpius went back to school to join his classmates in their second detention following the fight in the Quidditch lesson.

Professor Grant was the one taking them for their detention that evening. He led around ten of them, Scorpius included, down to the laundry room where at least fifty huge piles of dirty laundry were stood.

Their task was to sort out the washing and then give it to the house elves to be cleaned. Scorpius and a blonde Ravenclaw who he barely knew took a pile to do together and set about doing their detention, rarely speaking at all for the duration of their detention.

If was nearing half eight when Scorpius made his discovery. His eyes were falling shut and the job was boring him half to death but that was before he laid hands on the cloak.

Being the heir of a very wealthy family meant that Scorpius knew when money had been thrown at something. And money had certainly been thrown at the cloak that he held in his hands. It was made of velvet in a rich navy blue colour, lined in silk of the same colour and embroidered with the finest thread Scorpius had ever seen. Most of Scorpius's classmates, fellow Slytherins not included, would never have seen such a magnificent item of clothing. Scorpius had never put his hands on something quite like this cloak, the clasps at the front were made of solid gold after all, but he had set eyes on it just the once.

This was the cloak that he had seen the previous night when Blue Cloak and Black Cloak had been plotting and he and Al had been there, listening in.

Now, all he needed to do was find out who the cloak belonged to, and he would have the answer as to who was under that hood and possibly even what they wanted with Hogwarts.


	7. By The Moon's Pale Light

**I am not J.K Rowling, though I wish I was, and therefore I do not own Hogwarts, Harry Potter, or anything you recognise from the wizarding world of Harry Potter.**

**A short message to all of my readers. Thank you ever so much, chapter seven has arrived, I hope you carry on reading and enjoying my work.**

**With love and sugar quills, **

**ArielSprite!**

Al was worried. Now this wasn't particularly unusual for him. He tended to worry a lot. Most of the things he worried about were trivial things like homework or Quidditch. Other things were more serious. His family for one. That was a wide area of worry. Lots of things could be sorted into that category. Things like whether James was going to get himself killed in his latest prank, or whether his sister Lily would ever stop whining about not being able to go to Hogwarts long enough to get there. On this occasion he was worrying about Scorpius. Or rather, Scorpius's mental health.

It had been a week since the moment on the Astronomy tower and Al was becoming increasingly concerned about his friend. Scorpius had taken to pacing up and down in their room, in the common room, even in corridors. And while he paced, he would mutter nonsense. Or at least that's what it sounded like to Al.

"...insane...map...secret passage...kill...treasure?"

So far in the week that had passed since the Astronomy tower incident Scorpius had garnered strange looks from seven teachers (including Professor Grant), exactly two hundred and nineteen students (the majority of the looks coming from Ravenclaws) and forty one animals (Titania in particular had stared at Scorpius for a long while, completely befuddled by his behaviour). Al and the other Slytherins raised their eyebrows, and frowned but let Scorpius be. They all had their own idiosyncrasies, and even Al had to admit that Scorpius put up with all of his mess and bad habits without too much complaint. If obsessively neat Scorpius could put up with his habit of leaving his dirty clothes in strange places around their dorm, then Al could put up with a temporary (hopefully) loss of sanity.

"What do we have today?" Al asked, pouring around half a bottle of honey onto his porridge and then shaking the bottle frustratedly in an attempt to get the last few drops.

"Wednesday - um, map - History - cloak - detention - Herbology - Dark Arts - tower..." Scorpius trailed off, a piece of toast coated in marmalade dropping out of his open mouth. Al heard someone, probably Eliza, make a quiet exclamation of disgust. Scorpius ran his fingers through his hair and nodded slowly before jumping to his feet and racing off. Al was sat there for a moment before Scorpius returned, picked up his toast and rushed off again. This time Al went after him.

"Scorp!" he called. "Scorp, wait up!"

Al raced to catch up to Scorpius. While the Malfoy heir might have been fast, Al was slightly faster and caught up to him in no time at all.

"What's going on?" he asked. Scorpius stopped, running his hand through his hair once again, his lips moving silently.

"Highclere, it's Highclere," Scorpius answered absentmindedly.

"What's Highclere?"

"Cloak, Highclere's...office. His office...free this afternoon!"

"Scorpius!" Al shouted, ending the words spilling from Scorpius' mouth. "For the love of all that is holy stop rambling like a mad person and explain yourself. You've been weird ever since that night on the Astronomy tower. It freaked the hell out of me too, but you've been blanking everyone for the past week and to be honest this erratic behaviour is just winding everyone up."

Scorpius had the decency to look slightly ashamed.

"I think I know who was on the Astronomy tower that night," he said slowly.

Al's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. He looked around quickly, grabbed Scorpius' arm and dragged him into an empty classroom nearby. Scorpius rubbed his forearm where Al's fingernails had dug in slightly.

"That hurt," he whined.

Al shook his head in disbelief.

"Never mind whether it hurt or not," Al said. "Tell me everything about what you know! From the beginning!" he interrupted when Scorpius opened his mouth to speak.

"Remember detention last Thursday?" Scorpius began. Al nodded slowly. "Remember how I had to sort out a load of laundry?" Al nodded once again, wondering exactly where Scorpius was going. "I found the cloak!"

"Cloak, what cloak?" Al was completely mystified.

Scorpius rolled his eyes in exasperation and possibly frustration.

"_The _cloak. The one that the guy on the Astronomy tower was wearing. The blue one!"

Al felt himself sinking back onto a desk. If Scorpius had found the cloak in the laundry, then someone must have put it in the wash. They had to be at Hogwarts.

"Come on!" Al said. "We have to find out who it belongs to. The house elves might know who it belongs to."

"Oh they do," Scorpius assured him, his grey eyes darkening. He sighed and looked out of the window into the courtyard. Al walked over to him, a frown etched upon his face. He gently placed a single hand on Scorpius's shoulder and watched as his friend turned to face him, dread at the secret he held filling him. "And so do I."

"Who?"

Al wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"Highclere," Scorpius let out a sigh.

"Highclere." Al closed his eyes with a groan. Scorpius nodded.

"I checked with the house elves. They said it definitely came from his room, and one of them, creepy one called Winston-"

"There's a house elf called _Winston_?" Al interrupted. Scorpius glared at him. "Right, sorry, more important things to worry about."

"Yeah, things like our evil Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher plotting to destroy our school!"

"I s'pose that could be potentially problematic," he muttered.

"_Potentially problematic_!" Scorpius's voice seemed to have gone up two octaves and incredulity dripped from every syllable. Al shrugged slightly but, much like Scorpius, had the decency to look mildly ashamed of himself.

"What are we going to do?"

"I've had an idea on that front," Scorpius informed him. Al raised an eyebrow. "We have DADA this afternoon, that means he'll definitely be out of his room, so we'll have at least fifty minutes where he's busy and we can get in and out of his room."

"What if he doesn't keep it in his room?" Al asked. "Where is his room anyway?"

"Where else would he keep it?"

"Other than his office, on his person, or other random places around the school?" Al suggested sarcastically, ignoring the roll of Scorpius's eyes.

"We can look in all of those places if we need to -"

"How exactly - What are we going to do, knock him out and then search him?" Al demanded. Scorpius shrugged slightly, as if he were considering the possibility. Al shook his head. "We still need to know where his room is though." Scorpius's face fell and the two boys stared out into the courtyard.

"We're in serious trouble, aren't we?" Scorpius asked quietly. Al nodded slowly.

"Yup."

Al had some serious trouble keeping his mind on his lessons that morning. It kept wandering away to the Astronomy tower where Al and Scorpius had witnessed Highclere's plotting session and when he wasn't thinking about all that, his thoughts meandered towards Rose and James, the latter of whom he had seen in the Great Hall and passed in the corridors; the former of whom was sat three rows in front and four seats to the left of him.

"You okay?" Scorpius asked, glancing over at Al. Al shrugged noncommittally, his eyes focused on his cousin.

Rose was just one of his cousins, but they had always been closest to each other. Like Al, Rose understood the dangers of having a younger sibling, an annoying one at that. Maybe it was because they were only two months apart in age, Rose being the older, but their parents had always told them to play nicely. It was probably partly that, and partly the fact that neither of them particularly enjoyed the activities of their other cousins. Either way, the two had known each other from the moment that Al was born, and they had basically been friends ever since then.

Despite Rose's extremely irritating nature, especially when she was right and she knew it, Al missed her. She was the single most annoying person he had ever met, but she was his cousin, and he missed being part of her life, and her being part of his life. God, that was sad.

"...and that is why, when confronted by Devil's Snare-"

"Professor!" Al interrupted. "Professor Longbottom!"

"Yes, Alb-Mr Potter?"

"I don't feel well," Al stated. He knew full well that he looked fine, and was fine, but he couldn't sit in this Herbology lesson any longer. Not without possibly throwing a tantrum, and he hadn't done that since he was eight and James had snapped his broom in an attempt to make Al go to bed, where he had happily hidden twenty half melted acid pops. That had been painful. For James.

Neville, Professor Longbottom, Al corrected himself, sighed and waved a hand in the air.

"Go on then," he nodded. "Do you need Mr Malfoy to take you to the hospital wing?"

"No, I think I can manage," Al replied with a stiff smile.

He shoved his books into his bag and left the classroom as quickly as possible. Because the Herbology classrooms were at the back of the greenhouses he had to duck between a Venomous Tentacula and a plantation of screech snaps to get out.

Once he was out of class Al wandered over to the library. He had nothing better to do. And that was, quite frankly, just sad. Almost as sad as wanting his bossy cousin back in his life. Almost.

The library wasn't too bad, Al decided. It was quiet, and when you hid in that weird alcove at the back, even the librarian Madame Whystan, who was really quite fanatical about books and other things such as first years hiding out in the library instead of being in lessons. He really, really didn't want another detention. He was already booked up all the way till November 24th. That was pretty sad too.

A snigger rose in Al's throat at the thought of all his detentions. At least his only lasted through to November. Scorpius was busy until Christmas because of all his Quidditch practices.

Why Al was there was beyond even him. Admittedly, it was quieter than his Herbology class, and he would get exactly the same mark whether he was in the class or not, but he was pretty bored. At least he could mess around with Scorpius in Herbology. Neither of them liked it, at all, but Scorpius managed to get decent grades while Al failed miserably. Plants just seemed to wither when they saw him. He couldn't really blame them. He didn't a green bone in his body. Although, it was a rather small body, so you know...

That was beside the point though. The point was, Al had spent the past hour and a half in an alcove, in the library, when he was supposed to be in Herbology, which, while it was the most boring subject ever (even Muggle Studies was more amusing. Newberry's frequent arguments with Eliza really were very funny), Herbology was a subject compulsory until OWL year and Al needed all the help he could get in that field.

Al sighed. He leaned his head back against the wall and then sat straight up again when he heard footsteps echoing around the room.

"Al," a soft voice called. The footsteps got closer and Al found himself leaning out of the alcove and towards the voice. He recognised it. "Al, I know you're in here!" A sigh escaped Al's lips as he untangled his legs and hopped out of the alcove. "Where are you?" the voice demanded.

"I'm here."

Rose jumped as Al revealed himself. Steadying herself on the bookshelf she put one hand over her beating heart and glared at Al.

"You frightened me!" she hissed. Al shrugged. Rose shook her head. "I know you're angry at me."

"Really?" Al asked. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Don't be like that," Rose pleaded.

"Like what?" It was Al's turn to hiss. Though he missed his relationship with his cousin, the anger swelling up inside of him consumed the part of him that wanted make things up and he sent a haughty look borrowed from Scorpius at his cousin. Rose looked like she was going to cry. Al found that he had no sympathy for her.

"I-I know you're angry at me," Rose began. "But I wanted to apologise. I've been horrible to you."

"Yes," Al said coldly. "You have." Rose nodded, looking ashamed.

"And I know you probably don't want to see me ever again. You have every right to feel that way-"

"Oh I know," Al informed her.

"But, well, I just wanted you to know, that I miss you. You're my cousin, and my best friend, and no matter what house you're in, I'll always be there for you."

"That wasn't what you thought three weeks ago."

Rose bit her lip. She obviously didn't like being reminded of what she had said. Those words had been hurtful after all and Al had thrown some nasty words back. They had both gotten detention for "disrupting the learning environment of others". Personally Al felt that they had just livened it up a bit. But apparently, duelling in the library was against school rules, even if all the spells they shot at each other had been low level ones, most of which had missed anyway. It had, however, been amusing to see Madame Whystan throw a hissy fit over them destroying the precious bindings on her books. According to Scorpius, after she had thrown Al and Rose out to see Professors Grant and Longbottom, she had freaked out at the sight of her "darling books, ruined!"

"There is a chance, maybe, that Iwaswrong," Rose muttered.

A smirk spread across Al's face.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"Iwaswrong," Rose said as quickly as possible, slurring the words together.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that," Al grinned. He was rather enjoying the feeling of supremacy over Rose. He knew how much she hated being wrong, and it was probably the first time she had ever actually said that she was wrong. Rose took a deep breath.

"I said, I was wrong," she sighed. Al knew how much it must have taken for her to admit that. She must have been sorry.

Al's face broke into a smile and he wrapped his arms around his cousins. Rose stood there for a moment, surprised by his actions, before returning the hug.

The pair stood there for a moment until Al let go.

"Thank you," Rose murmured. "You didn't have to forgive me."

"Who says that I have?" Al teased. Rose managed a smile. "No more insults or shouting matches?"

"No more insults or shouting matches," she confirmed. "I should probably be going now. I said I'd meet Aria for a study session."

"That pretty Ravenclaw with the blue highlights?" Al questioned. Rose nodded. "See you around Rosie. Scorpius is probably wondering where I am. I did sort of abandon him after all."

"Kay, well, can we meet up tonight. Say, seven thirty, in the entrance hall?"

"Sure," Al nodded. "I'll see you then."

Scorpius, as it seemed, was not at lunch. While Al knew that his friend didn't obsessively eat like most of the other boys, Scorpius had eaten about three bites of toast before rushing off that morning and Al expected him to be hungry. Apparently not though. When he reached the great hall he made his way over to the Slytherin table, searching for his closest friend.

"Have any of you lot seen Scorpius?" he asked the group of first years that he joined.

"Missing your boyfriend are you?" This, of course, came from Eliza. It would have been irritating normally, but Al couldn't take Eliza seriously with whipped cream on her nose and chin.

"None of you?" Al was rather disappointed.

"Try the kitchens Potter," Eliza sighed, her tongue flicking out to lick the cream off of her chin. Al frowned. "While Malfoy went into one of his deranged muttering fits he mentioned the kitchens. If I were you, I would check there first."

"Two things," Al said, completely bemused by Eliza Leytii of all people being helpful. "One, I don't know where the kitchens are, and two, I don't trust you."

Eliza shrugged.

"Well, you're wise not to trust me Potter. On this occasion however, I really am being helpful. I have this condition. It means I'm unable to stand pathetic loneliness emanating off of someone." Al wasn't sure whether he should be insulted or not. Considering that it was Eliza, he went with insulted. "Oh and BTW, the kitchens are directly underneath this hall. Follow the basement staircase down to the Hufflepuff corridor. Instead of turning right, go left. When you reach the fruit bowl painting, tickle the pear and you'll be in."

"And you know this how?" Nial O'Reilly asked as Al took in this information.

"You do know who my brother is don't you?" Eliza demanded. Nial nodded slowly. "And you do realise that he is one of the school's greatest pranksters and rule breakers, yes?" Nial nodded once again. "So what makes you think that he won't know where the kitchens are?"

"I'm not questioning him, I'm asking how you know," Nial said. Eliza let out an exaggerated sigh.

"My brother showed me," she replied.

"Speaking about me are we?" another Welsh voice came from behind the Slytherins. Alex Leytii and his group of friends were stood there.

"What do you want Leytii?" one of the Slytherin third years demanded.

"I'm here to see my sister, Schobotsky," Alex Leytii replied witheringly. He spared the Slytherin a look of disgust before turning to Eliza. "We're skipping class to go into Hogsmeade. You want to come?"

Eliza thought about it for a moment.

"Sure," she shrugged. "I've only got DADA this afternoon."

She hopped off the bench and turned to Al.

"Remember what I said," she told him. "Fruit bowl painting, tickle the pear."

"Right," Al said, still reeling from the revelation that Eliza Leytii could be, well, pleasant. "Oh, you've got some cream on your nose by the way." Eliza touched her nose, looked at the cream in surprise and then streaked her brother's cheek with it. She grinned at Al as she walked out with her brother and Al stared in amazement.

"Oh, my, God," Nial was stunned. "Leytii has, like, a heart."

"She can't be that bad," Al mused. "I have the worst big brother ever, and I hate him. She can't be totally horrible if her brother doesn't punch her every five minutes."

"Would you do that to your sister?" Carmen Parks asked.

"If I could get away with it," Al reasoned. Several of the other Slytherins shrugged. "Anyway, I'm going to find Scorpius. For such a perfectionist he has a really terrible sense of direction. He'll probably get lost without me." Nial snorted and Al followed Eliza out of the great hall in search of his friend.

Surprisingly Eliza's instructions were accurate. Al made his way down the basement stairs, passing several Hufflepuffs on the way. When he reached the T junction he turned left and walked down a corridor filled with paintings.

Halfway down was a giant portrait of a bowl of fruit, just as Eliza had said. Al reached towards the painting, his forefinger stretched out, and he tickled the huge green pear. For a moment Al thought that Eliza had made a fool of him, but then it began to squirm, chuckling, and suddenly turned into a large green door handle. Amazed, Al seized it, pulled the door open and entered curiously.

His mouth dropped open as he gazed at the room. It was high-ceilinged, large as the Great Hall above it, with mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls. At the opposite end was a great brick fireplace with a fire roaring. Four long wooden tables was positioned exactly beneath the four House table above, in the Great Hall. At the moment they were half laden with food as lunch was coming to an end, but he supposed that forty minutes ago, when lunch had first started, the table would have been completely laden with dishes that were then sent up through the ceiling to their counterparts above. It was a neat method actually. There was a kitchen between the four house tables and at least a hundred little elves were standing around the kitchen, beaming, bowing, and curtsying and Al walked past them. They were all wearing the same uniform: a tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest, and tied in a toga.

"Al!" a voice from behind Al called out in surprise. Al turned around to see Scorpius coming towards him.

"Scorp!"

"What are you doing here?" Scorpius asked.

"I came looking for you," Al answered.

"How did you find me?" Scorpius's mouth dropped open. "Are you stalking me?"

"What? Of course I'm not stalking you! Eliza told me where you were." Scorpius's mouth fell even farther. Al had a delightful view of his tonsils.

"Eliza-Eliza Leytii?"

"Yeah," Al nodded.

"Is she stalking me?"

"No! Idiot!" Al exclaimed. "Why would _Eliza_ be stalking _you_? Moron!" Scorpius pouted. "What have you been doing anyway? Nobody's seen you since Herbology."

"Me? Oh, I was stalking Highclere."

"Stalking Highclere?" Al repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah, stalking Highclere," Scorpius grinned.

"Why?"

"Because," Scorpius answered as if it were obvious. "Nobody will believe us about him if we don't have any proof. And where else would he keep potentially incriminating evidence other than his room? We needed to know where it is. Now I know and we can break in this afternoon."

"How come you didn't get caught?" Al asked suspiciously.

"I might have borrowed your invisibility cloak." Al's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"You did what?"

"I know, I should have asked, but I needed to get around unseen."

"When, exactly did you take my cloak?"

"This morning," Scorpius provided. "While you were in the shower."

"You didn't even have a plan this morning."

"Yes, but I knew that I would need the cloak. So I borrowed-"

"Took," Al corrected.

"Fine, took," Scorpius huffed. "I took it. And, lucky for you I did. 'Cos now, we can get in and have a poke around Highcreep's bedroom."

"Highcreep?" Al questioned.

"Yeah, I thought it suited him."

Al started laughing. At first it was just light laughter, but then Scorpius joined in and moments later their sides were splitting. Scorpius grabbed hold of a house elf's head to steady himself. Then he realised what had happened and apologised looking slightly disgusted.

Once they had both recovered and eaten the éclairs that the house elves pushed onto them the two boys left the kitchens and made their way up to the fifth floor.

Scorpius pulled Al behind a statue of Laverne de Montmorency, pulled the invisibility cloak from his robes and swung it over them both. It was really rather uncomfortable, being pressed up against Laverne de Montmorency's rather large buttocks, and Al glared at Scorpius who was silently sniggering away.

"I hate you," Al hissed. Scorpius just grinned. "You had better watch your back Malfoy, sleep with one eye open tonight."

Scorpius was about to retort when a door opened.

The boys peered out from behind the statue and watched as Highclere strutted past, his golden robes billowing out behind him.

"You know," Scorpius began. "The man might be evil and plotting to take over Hogwarts, but he sure can work silk like nobody's business."

"Yeah, and that billow action," Al chimed in. "Mind blowing!"

"So you agree!"

"No, you idiot! I was being sarcastic!"

"Well you need to be clearer," Scorpius pouted.

"Come on," Al said, ignoring Scorpius's strange behaviour.

They made their way down the corridor to a tapestry of a spring meadow. Al raised his eyebrows as he stared at it.

"I don't want to know," Scorpius said, looking just as horrified and sickened. Al shuddered.

Scorpius pushed the tapestry aside, revealing a door. He tried the doorknob, which unsurprisingly didn't open. He stepped back.

"Ah," he said. "I, er, didn't anticipate this." Al shook his head.

"Why don't you try Standard Book of Spells Grade One Chapter Seven?" he suggested. Scorpius looked at him blankly. "Alohamora!" A look of understanding passed over Scorpius's face.

The door opened.

Highclere's rooms were not what Al had expected. He had expected them to be neat, tidy and oozing with evil. Black would probably be a prominent colour and there may be the smell of mould and damp lingering in the air.

"Oh this is revolting!"

Scorpius looked like he was going to have an aneurism. Al was trying not to laugh.

"Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin!" Scorpius was close to tears. "This place, it's disgusting!" He turned to Al with his most charming smile on his face. "I tell you what Al, why don't you search for clues, while I stand guard. You know, outside of this filthy, disgusting, revolting, repulsive, sickening, disgusting-"

"You said disgusting twice," Al informed him. Scorpius glared.

"The point stands," he said. "This place is a pig sty. I know cockroaches who sleep in nicer places than this."

"It's not that bad," Al said.

It really wasn't. The room was a decent size, bigger than their dorm room, and one wall was taken up by windows looking out over a waterfall. That was a surprise. Al didn't know Hogwarts had a waterfall. There was a large four poster bed with purple (seriously, purple) silk hangings. Scorpius looked at it in distaste.

"He didn't make his bed, and he left dirty underwear under his pillow!"

"Eww!" Al said. He wasn't the same neat freak that Scorpius was, but even he knew that leaving dirty underwear under your pillow was just disgusting.

Opposite the bed was a desk that was littered with scraps of parchment, quills and ink bottles. Al was fairly certain that he could see owl droppings there too. Various items of clothing, robes, trousers and shirts, were strewn across the floor and the furniture. Pushing aside a pink shirt Al found a sofa. Underneath the clothes were several butterbeer bottles and what looked like a pizza box from the muggle world.

"Dominos," Al read out loud, turning his head. "Who knew that evil people had pizza cravings?" He turned back to Scorpius who still looked like he might have a heart attack at any point. "Are you alright?" Scorpius shook his head.

"Forget what I said earlier," he said. "Let's get out of here and tell Quidel instead. If I stay here for much longer I might vomit."

Al winced. Scorpius looked dreadful. The mess was awful, and the smell of unwashed clothes and mouldy food was pretty disgusting, but it wasn't that bad.

"Come on," Al encouraged. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"In the laundry room," Scorpius replied. "Where this lot should be!"

"It isn't that bad. Search the desk while I look through his bedside cabinets."

"Fine," Scorpius muttered, sending a glare at Al. "But you owe me for this!"

"I'll get Eliza to tell me how to get into Hogsmeade and I will buy you fourteen bags of raspberry sugar quills," Al bargained.

"Make them lemon and you have a deal," Scorpius agreed.

"Kay," Al grinned. "Get looking!"

Scorpius scowled at him before turning to search through the mess of papers on the desk with a mildly horrified expression on his face. Al simply shook his head at his friend before making his way over to the bedside cabinets and pulling the drawers open.

* * *

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this!" Scorpius muttered to himself.

He wasn't completely anal about mess, he just didn't like it, and Highclere's room was essentially a pig sty. How he wished that he was in the kitchens again. While the noise of one hundred tiny, squeaking elves got on his nerves slightly, the place was spotless. Those brass pots had been polished within an inch of their lives and the rest of the equipment, well that was immaculate too. As for the house elves, even their tea towel togas were perfectly pressed. It was so much nicer than the awful dung heap that Highclere called a bedroom.

The sheaves of parchment were all over the place. Broken quills and empty ink bottles were everywhere. Al was sifting through Highclere's bedside cabinets. Scorpius wasn't sure which one was better really. He was certain that those little brown pellets that were scattered across the desk were not raisins.

The smell was getting to him a bit too.

Scorpius began searching through the scrolls of parchment. None of it was any good. It was all notes on Defence Against the Dark Arts topics. Scorpius's mouth dropped open as he found an essay written by him, three weeks ago. So this was why he hadn't gotten it back... Hang on, that moron Highclere had given him detention for not doing it when it had been on his desk all along. Scorpius huffed. He was so going to get that stupid moron back for this.

"Found anything yet?" Al asked.

"Other than a whole load of owl droppings, an out of date box of dates and an essay that I "didn't do", no," Scorpius answered.

"I don't suppose my werewolf essay is there, is it?"

"Probably," Scorpius shrugged. "There's so much crap here it's ridiculous."

"I know," Al sighed. "There's nothing but cufflinks in his bedside cabinets, and I'm not looking under his bed until we get desperate, really desperate. I'll go check in the bathroom." Scorpius raised his eyebrows. "What? I like to read on the loo. You never know, Highclere might like it too."

"Oh you need help," Scorpius told his friend. Al shrugged. "But you still owe me those sugar quills!"

The door to the en suite bathroom had already closed, Al's retort muffled by three inches of painted and varnished wood. Scorpius sighed and shook his head.

He hadn't searched the drawers of the desk yet. If he was Highclere he might have hidden it there. Although then again, if he were Highclere he would probably have thrown himself off the roof for being so disgustingly messy.

Scorpius tipped a drawer upside down. There was nothing in it. He tossed it aside. It wasn't like Highclere would actually notice the extra mess that he was making. Scorpius tried every other drawer in the desk, tipping out bags of sweets, quills, a stack of essays and a box of owl nuts, though he was pretty sure that mixed in with the nuts were some owl droppings. Strangely enough he didn't feel the same revulsion for that as he normally would have. Al was rubbing off on him. Now that was a frightening thought.

He had reached the final drawer in the desk. Expecting it to be filled with the same rubbish as all the other ones, Scorpius was rather surprised when it turned out to be locked.

That was the spark he needed.

"Alohamora!" he cried, directing his wand at the draw. With a click it opened.

Scorpius immediately grabbed it. Inside there was just one piece of parchment that seemed to have been torn from a book. It was very old, yellow and crumpled and written on it, in an elegant, swirling hand was a series of symbols. Scorpius frowned, the symbols were making his head hurt.

"Al," he called. "Al you have to get in here! Potter!"

The door opened and Al rushed out looking excited.

"Did you find something?" he demanded eagerly. Scorpius nodded in the same fashion.

"Yeah, this was locked in one of the drawers. I don't know what it says though."

"This is really cool!"

It was nearly seven thirty in the evening and Al and Scorpius were sat in the library poring over the little piece of parchment.

They had left Highclere's room and headed down to the kitchens where they discussed the torn page over bowls of the house elves' freshly made Shark Fin Soup. According to Kasitov, who was Quidel's personal house elf which afforded him a high status in the kitchens, the headmaster had a particular love of Chinese food, which was why so many Chinese dishes were served. It also explained why he had served Chinese tea when Al, Scorpius, Eliza, Rose, McLaggen and Smith had been to see him. Kasitov informed them that Quidel had his favourite teas flown all the way from China. Quidel's obsession with China was occasionally annoying to the house elves, as they were not used to preparing Chinese food, but they had taken to it extremely well, and the food was delicious.

"Yeah, brilliant!" Scorpius muttered. The excitement had worn off by now. Instead, it had been replaced by an annoyance as neither he or Al actually knew what the symbols meant, and whether they meant anything at all.

"Cheer up Scorp!" Al said brightly. "Now we have a clue to stopping Highclere, and it'll be an adventure."

"Why couldn't I just listen to my father?" Scorpius asked. "He told me to stay away from you, and I ignored him. If only I had listened. Then I wouldn't be sat here, with you, wondering what in Merlin's name is going on in your head. It would be so much more peaceful. I might even get a relatively normal life." Al was trying not to laugh. "But no-ooooooooooooo! I just had to ignore him like the idiot I am. Merlin, am I an idiot!"

"Well, now that you mention it..."

"That was a statement, not a question. And if it was a question, then it was rhetorical!" Scorpius informed him huffily.

"What does that mean?" Al asked bemused.

"It means, I didn't want an answer to that question!"

"But what's the point of questions if you don't answer them? Shouldn't they be answered. Isn't that the purpose of them?"

"Shut up!" Scorpius complained. Al grinned at getting one over his friend. "Shouldn't you be going to find that horrid cousin of yours?"

"Rose isn't that bad," Al told him.

"She tried to burn my hair off! My hair!"

"That was before; she's seen the error of her ways!"

Scorpius merely raised his eyebrows.

"Whatever you say. Go on, have some fun, but remember, not too many drinks, it's a school night!"

Al snorted before waving goodbye to Scorpius and leaving the kitchen, accepting a freshly made piece of chocolate cake from the house elves. Scorpius sighed and looked back at the torn page. He might not know what the symbols meant, but he knew where he could find out. The library.

Now, Scorpius wasn't the most studious of people. The only things he really excelled at academically were Transfiguration and Astronomy. He was, of course, rather excellent at Quidditch too, if he did say so himself. But his lack of academia meant that he didn't visit the library very often, and his answer to puzzles or difficult issues was never to go to the library. On occasion Al would go, but Scorpius almost never traversed the shelves of the library.

"It smells funny in here," he murmured as he walked past Madame Whystan, the fearsome librarian, avoiding the eagle-like glare she shot at him.

The library was huge. Scorpius knew that, but he also knew that the books were arranged by subject. Now all he had to do was find the Ancient Runes section.

Eventually Scorpius found the section he wanted. After getting lost, twice, turning a corner and bumping into a sixth year Hufflepuff girl who sent him a death glare, and interrupting a couple of fifth years who were snogging in an alcove, Scorpius finally found the section he wanted.

Finding the section was almost as much use as being lost. There were so many books there, and most of them were written in strange runes. Scorpius took the torn page out of his pocket and began trying to match and of the symbols on the page to the ones on the books. Needless to say he got bored after a while and ended up flopping down, his back against the bookshelves.

Minutes passes with Scorpius just sat there, about fifty books piled up next to him and his head lolling on his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" a lilting Welsh voice asked and Scorpius looked up to see a group of four Ravenclaw boys stood in front of him with their arms crossed and smirks of amusement on their faces. The tallest one, and probably the best looking one, was stood slightly in front of the others and appeared to be the one who had spoken.

Scorpius was sure he had seen the boys around, with Eliza Leytii of all people. He was rather confused until he saw the boy's golden eyes, the same as Eliza's.

"Uh, yeah, sorry, I was just looking for a book," Scorpius explained.

In unison the four boys raised their eyebrows. Scorpius's mouth dropped open. The eyebrow thing was really quite creepy.

"Sure you were," Leytii said, amused.

"C'mon Alex," a boy with honey blonde curls said. "Leave the wickle firsty alone. He doesn't know how to fight back yet!" The gratitude that Scorpius had felt for this boy at first vanished.

"Shut up Leander," Leytii snorted. "I'll meet you guys back in the common room. I promised Liza I'd get a book that she wanted from the restricted section."

"I don't get why you indulge her so much," a boy with short brown spikes sighed.

"'Cos she's my sister, that's why," Leytii grinned. "Go on, I'll see you up there."

All three of the boys nodded and left leaving Scorpius and Leytii stood there.

"You know," Leytii began. "If you wanted a book, it might help if you actually looked at them."

Scorpius rolled his eyes. Leytii grinned at Scorpius before walking over to the restricted section.

An idea popped up in Scorpius's head. The restricted section might hold the answer to all of his problems. Well, most of them.

He darted out from the bookshelf and followed Leytii into the restricted section.

The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Scorpius looked incredulously at the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library but didn't question it as he stepped carefully over it and headed straight for the seventh row.

There wasn't a particular reason as to why he had picked the seventh row, but Scorpius knew that seven was a highly magical number. He figured that there was just as much chance of him finding the book he needed in that row as any other.

Scorpius crouched to view the bottom row of books and began to read the peeling titles of the old books. Most of them were in languages that he couldn't understand, but none of them were the runes that he was looking for. There was a smell in the restricted section. It wasn't the same musty smell of the old books in the main library; there was something darker and more malevolent about it.

"What are you doing here boy!"

Scorpius nearly jumped out of his skin. Madame Whystan was towering over him looking like an overgrown raven in her black robes.

"I-I was just looking for a book," Scorpius stammered.

"In the restricted section?"

Scorpius was desperately searching for an answer when a voice interrupted.

"Madame Whystan!" It was Leytii. He had appeared out of thin air. Scorpius frowned. "He was helping me, it's fine."

"You were using a first year?"

"Book carriers," Leytii supplied. "I have about four."

Madame Whystan nodded and backed away, still shooting daggers at Scorpius.

"Thanks for that," Scorpius said once she was gone.

"No probs," Leytii grinned. "I have a book carrier now!" Scorpius's face fell and Leytii burst out laughing at his expression. "I'm just kidding blondie. You don't really have to carry my-ow!"

The pair had been leaving the restricted section and Leytii had tripped on the rope sending him crashing to the ground. Scorpius winced, and helped the older boy up.

"Thanks," Leytii muttered. "I always forget that that rope is there. This is the fourth time I've tripped over it this month."

"This looks interesting." Scorpius's attention had been drawn to a thick volume bound in navy blue leather. It had silver symbols embossed on the front cover and spine. When Leytii had tripped it had fallen open and Scorpius found himself gazing at the hand drawn symbol in the top right hand corner of the page. It was the same symbol as the third one on the torn page.

Leytii snorted.

"It's really not," he told Scorpius. "Why Liza wanted me to get her this book is beyond me."

"She can understand this?" Scorpius asked. Leytii nodded.

"Girl might be the single most annoying brat on the planet, but she's a genius when it comes to translation. French, Spanish, Greek, Russian, Hebrew, Runes, Hieroglyphs, anything that isn't in English is her territory. Why?"

"No-no reason. Just wondering." Scorpius flashed a charming smile at Leytii. "I didn't know she was so...talented, that's all. She's been in my class since September after all."

"Oh yeah!" Leytii shook his head with a grin on his face. "She's probably as annoying here as she is at home. If not more annoying." He winked at Scorpius. "Don't, don't tell her I said that."

"I won't," Scorpius assured him.

"Good, 'cos I would hate for you to be scraped off the ceiling. Knowing my sister... well you're better off keeping your mouth shut." Scorpius nodded. "Well, I gotta go. See you around Blondie!"

Scorpius was in shock. He knew then moment that he was completely and utterly screwed.


	8. A Crack In The Armour

**Okay then, this is chapter eight. It's my longest chapter yet, over eight thousand words, and it is absolutely full of angst! I hope you all enjoy and keep reading! Butterbeers to all who review!**

Not many people knew it, or believed it, but Eliza Leytii was more than merely clever. She was absolutely brilliant. Well, she was absolutely brilliant at certain things. Languages and translation was one of those things, two if you wanted to be pedantic, Charms was another, Eliza had a particular flair for that subject, and Herbology was yet another, it was basically the theory of gardening and that was something that Eliza could do. Though she wasn't brilliant in her other subjects she was good at them. She was good at almost everything, excluding anything domestic (sewing, cooking, that sort of thing), flying (Alex was more than welcome to that area) and Eliza's Achilles heel, Transfiguration.

Transfiguration was not something that Eliza enjoyed. It was, in her less than humble opinion, a magical kind of torture, inflicted on all students at Hogwarts for the pleasure of their teachers. If that was the case, then Grant would be getting some serious pleasure from Eliza's various attempts in his class. The simple fact was she just could not do Transfiguration. Three out of five times when she attempted a spell in class, she blew something up. It wasn't totally her fault, but Transfiguration was about logic and control, and Eliza wasn't used to trying to control her magic in such ways. Heck, she wasn't used to trying to control her magic full stop. This world, everything in it, it was all new to her and she had no way whatsoever of knowing how things worked. Alex did try to teach and help her, but she couldn't rely on her brother for everything and quite frankly, his friends were beginning to get on her nerves. Darren Leander she could take, she knew him, Alex had invited him over before, and with him, Eliza knew what to expect. The others though... Eliza knew that they couldn't be totally awful. She trusted Alex's judgement. He was her brother, and he had pretty decent taste in friends, so she couldn't totally hate them; but if that arrogant bastard Zach McAroy ruffled her hair and called her "sweetie" one more time, she was going to unscrew his head and drop wishing pennies down his throat.

"Aarrgh!" Eliza let out a frustrated cry, throwing her quill down in anger.

"Sssshhh!" Madame Whystan shushed her. Eliza poked her tongue out and made a face.

"You shush," she muttered.

Truthfully Eliza knew that she probably shout be quiet. She was in the library and people were trying to concentrate. But quite frankly, the library was _enorme_! There was nobody sitting close to her, so she couldn't really disturb anyone. Besides, Whystan was seriously winding her up. The woman needed to relax.

With a sigh Eliza picked her quill up again, dipped it in her ink bottle and turned back to the same piece of Transfiguration homework that she had been stuck on for the past hour and a half.

Oh sweet God, Eliza missed Wales.

That was something Eliza never thought she would miss. Wales was cold, wet, and everyone spoke with a funny accent. She knew that she had an accent, but hers had been affected by years of travelling around the world. There would be certain words that she would say with a Chinese accent, Chinese being one of them. Other words she would say with a Spanish, Greek or German accent. The rest of the time though, her Welsh accent would be gentler and less harsh than most people's accents. Even Daniel Thurman, that Northern Gryffindor idiot who liked to pick on her accent because she had beaten him in a debate in Muggle Studies with about three words, had to admit that she spoke far more nicely than he did.

It was home though. Wales, cold and wet as it may be, was home. Eliza hated the weather, the people and pretty much everything there, but it was home. Wales, as much as she hated to admit it, was her home. And she missed it.

God, that was sad.

Yet another sigh escaped Eliza's lips as she crossed out her last sentence. She was pushing so hard that the nib of her quill went straight through the parchment, making a tear. Eliza growled quietly.

"Reparo." She tapped the parchment with her wand and a self-satisfied smirk crossed her face as the tear sealed itself up, leaving no trace of her anger.

Eliza looked back at her work and again groaned. How was she supposed to write an essay on the process of _reparifarge _if she had never successfully performed it? Theory wasn't going to be enough, and Alex point blank refused to do her homework for her. That was a shame really, Alex really was very good at pretty much everything. It was rather sickening sometimes.

That moment was when the idea struck her. She had spoken to both her head of house and the headmaster about her issues with writing in English. She had spent a large amount of her life speaking foreign languages and had always struggled slightly when she came back to English. If she wrote it in another language though, well for one Grant wouldn't be able to read it, and even if he used a translation spell, she could say that it wasn't infallible and that certain things got lost in the translation. Even if he didn't believe her he would tell her to do it again, which would give her longer to actually perform the spell and thereby be able to write about it. And if that failed, she could "accidentally" spill something on the parchment.

Content with her plan Eliza grabbed a new piece of parchment and began scribbling away, much happier in the knowledge that it while Grant was translating it, she might actually succeed in casting the stupid spell.

Half an hour and eight inches of writing later Eliza threw down her quill, pleased with her work. She had successfully managed to write an entire essay on the principles of time travel in the TARDIS, in fluent Russian. There was no way that Grant would know what she was talking about, even if he did translate it. Eliza was fairly confident that he wouldn't even bother to do that, her teachers in primary school hadn't been bothered to translate her work, even though most of it was just insulting them in various languages.

Yawning widely, Eliza looked out of the window that she was sat next to and checked her watch. It was nearing eight o'clock and outside the sky was darkening from the pale grey it had been to a rich purple, mixed with black and blue. Dotted around the sky were stars. Eliza knew some of them, she was quite good at Astronomy after all, and she also knew that you got the best view from the Astronomy tower. Still, the view from the library was pretty good. Eliza could see the Black Lake and the Forbidden Forest from her seat and the moon cast a silvery glow upon it all. The gas lamps in the library flickered and Eliza sighed. She missed electricity.

The view of the stars outside reminded Eliza of just how tired she was. She hadn't slept properly for such a long time, and the seat she was in was so comfortable. It was getting late too and her eyelids felt so very heavy...

_They were coming. Everyone in the citadel knew it. Many wanted it. Many did not. The King was furious at the rebels and had been taking it out on the citizens in the lower town and the outlying villages. So far, nearly a thousand had been killed, and more deaths were imminent. That was the way of war. The young girl who stood at the window knew that. She was far cleverer than people, even her father, gave her credit for._

"_You should not be watching this."_

_The girl turned to see her only friend standing behind her. He was not of her social status and if anyone heard either of them referring to each other as friends they would both be punished, he more than she._

_He was right though. If her father caught her watching the rebel army out of the castle windows then he would lock her in the dungeons. She was a princess, an object, nothing more than a pretty thing to dangle on the arm of some prince, as soon as she was married of course. Until then, she was subject to the wills and choices of her father. Her opinions were not her own, they belonged to her father until she was married, and then they belonged to her husband. No matter which man her father chose for her, none of them would approve of her watching the approaching army. It was something she could not help but do though. Every time she tried to sit down and do anything "appropriate" her mind wandered back to the window, and she just ended up more distracted than before._

_In the distance thousands and thousands of rebels marched towards them. Torches glowed in the pre-dusk darkness and even from this far away she could see their blades gleaming. The colours of the rebel army were displayed proudly. Red, orange, yellow and gold. The colours of fire. Because that was what the rebel army was. Fire. Destructive and dangerous. Without mercy and without compassion. While the rebels lived no one was safe._

_That was what her father had told her. That was what he had told his citizens. That message was all she had known about the rebels from the moment she had been born. They were not to be trusted. They were dangerous. Just like fire._

_Fire was a killer. But so was ice._

_Her father was ice. And if the world had to end in fire, as some said, or in ice, as others said, she would pick fire every time._

"_Princess, you ought to come away from the window," her friend repeated._

_She ignored him._

"_Is it true that they attack at dawn?" she asked, her fingers moving over the ring that she wore around her neck as she spoke._

"_You'd know more than I do."_

"_No," she said. "I really wouldn't." And the sad thing was, she was right when she said that. Being the king's daughter was an advantage for certain things. Marrying a prince was one of them. Finding out what was going on in her own kingdom was not._

"_Yes," her friend sighed. "They attack at dawn." The princess nodded. "You should also know that they've promised to take out the entire royal family. Including you."_

"_I know. I heard. Everyone did." _

_A bitter laugh escaped her lips. She remembered the deep voice that had echoed through the citadel, announcing the rebels' plans for the royal family. Anyone who hadn't heard it must either be deaf, drunk or dumb._

_From the moment that the threat had been heard the king had knights with him every single hour of the day. His son, the prince, the once future ruler, had them surrounding him too. She didn't. She was only the princess, worth almost nothing in her father's mind. The only time she would be useful was when her kingdom was at war with another one and they had an eligible prince who needed a wife. Another sad thing was that if the rebels hadn't come in, then that probably would have been her lonely fate._

"_And you're not worried?"_

_The princess turned around to face her friend._

"_Of course I'm worried!" she said. "But I made a deal with them. I get them inside the citadel and they don't kill or imprison me or the people." She nodded slowly, closing her eyes for a second. "I'll keep to my end of the bargain, and I just have to hope that they'll do the same."_

"_They're rebels though. You don't know what they'll do."_

"_No," she admitted. "But despite what my father thinks, not all of the rebels are bad."_

"_Don't you remember what they did to you?"_

"_Of course I remember!" the princess was incensed. She whirled around, her hair flying. She thrust her left arm out and pulled the sleeve up, baring the ugly scar. "I walk around, every day, knowing that the only reason I'm still alive is because a rebel, and not just any rebel, the son of the rebel leader, took pity on me and let me go!"_

_Tears, hot angry tears spilled from her eyes and she wiped them away furiously._

"_I am a princess," she stated. "I grew up in a land of luxury, where pretty much whatever I wanted was given to me on a golden platter. People bowed to me when I walked through the streets. Feasts were held in my honour. There was a time when people literally lay down in the street so that my shoes didn't have to touch the ground. And it's been a lie! All of it! And you want to know why?" She didn't bother to wait for an answer. "Because beneath this castle is a creature, one so magical and incredible that even my father cannot destroy it. Don't you see? We've been living in la ville du mal our entire lives. The rebels, they might be dangerous and-and magical, but they deserve the chance to be free! We all do!"_

"_Princess!"_

_The screams were getting louder. She could hear them. The lower town was on fire and the clash of metal on metal could be heard, even from her room at the top of the castle. Rubble and the bodies of the fallen decorated the courtyard that her room looked over._

_A sigh escaped her lips._

"_It's really happening, isn't it?"_

_A small part of her had been in denial about it all for a long time but now, as she gazed down at the slaughter that was going on below her._

_Bellows echoed throughout the castle and the princess sighed once more._

"_They're within the castle walls," her friend said softly. "It won't be long before they..." Her friend trailed off and she nodded in understanding. Despite her deal with them, the rebels hadn't kept to their word and had slaughtered thousands of the citizens they had promised to leave alone. Now that they had broken their deal, she wasn't sure if she was going to live to see the next morning._

_There was a hammering on the door. They had reached her._

"_You don't have to do this."_

"_Yes," the princess said. "I do."_

_She stood up, brushed off her skirt and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She looked tired, but beautiful, as she always did. She looked like a princess._

"_I'm ready," she nodded and carefully sat down again. "Let them in."_

* * *

"This isn't going to work," Scorpius said.

"How do you know?" Al challenged.

"Because I've spent the past two months listening to her tearing everybody down at every opportunity she gets," Scorpius supplied. "She's awful Al. And she hates us. There is no way in wizard hell, that she will ever help us."

"She doesn't hate us..."

"Doesn't she?" Scorpius demanded, ignoring Madame Whystan's order to be quiet. He grabbed Al's arm and yanked him behind a bookshelf. "Look, I know she was kind of nice to you the other day, but before and since then, she's been nothing but horrible. To everyone. In fact, the only person she hasn't immediately insulted is her brother!" Al rolled his eyes. "And from what her brother told me, he's had his fair share of insults from her too. Face it Al, this is useless!"

"It's not useless!" Al protested. Scorpius raised his eyebrows. "She'll say yes!"

"If she does, then I will give you a whole years' worth of my pocket money," he said. "And I'm telling you, that's about three hundred galleons."

"This isn't a bet right?" Al asked suspiciously. Scorpius rolled his eyes.

"No, it's not," he sighed. "I am merely pointing out the fact that I am willing to give up three hundred galleons if Eliza Leytii, the queen cow of this place, in first year-first year Al! If she says yes to helping us, then I will be more than happy to give you my money. I will also bow to you and accept that you clearly have some kind of...incredible persuasive magic in those porcupine locks of yours." Al frowned, but Scorpius waved his hand. "Because that is the only way that Eliza Leytii will ever say yes to helping us."

"I hate it when you get that smug look on your face," Al grumbled.

Scorpius rolled his eyes. Al might not want to accept it, but he knew that he was right. Eliza was the most irritating, rude, selfish, arrogant person he had ever met. And what made it all worse was the fact that he had to admire her slightly. The girl knew exactly what she wanted, and she was going to get it. She'd already started pushing people down the ladder on her climb to the top. It was, harsh, it was selfish, and ambitious, and it was so very Slytherin. He had to admit that Eliza Leytii was going places. Probably some rather unsavoury places, but still, she was going there. Sadly Scorpius was just another ant to her, an ant that she would have to destroy on her way up.

"You know I'm right though," he persisted. Al rolled his eyes.

"She can't be that bad," he sighed, unconvinced by his own words. "Maybe she just needs a chance."

"Oh yay!" Scorpius muttered. "Another chance for her to insult her. I don't know about you Al, but I'm sick of her slighting us. It's getting boring now."

That was true. Almost every time Eliza opened her mouth she insulted someone. It didn't matter who you were, what year or house you were in, or even if you were a teacher, Eliza would have something disparaging and insulting to say. When Scorpius had asked her why she insulted everyone she had replied with a smirk and said "It wouldn't be fair if I only insulted certain people. This way everyone is included. I don't believe in discrimination you see." Scorpius had stared at her and then walked away, completely befuddled.

Eliza certainly hadn't gotten bored with her own behaviour. As time went on her remarks became more and more cutting. Several days beforehand Eliza had been pulled out of Potions by Grant and Quidel himself to discuss her behaviour as a total of two hundred and eighteen students had come forward with complaints about her. And most of them were from older years. Scorpius could see their point of view. That girl was terrifying when she wanted to be. The most horrible thing about her was that ridiculous smirk she wore after she made someone cry. She would roll her eyes and then that smug smile would cross her face, her eyes glinting maliciously as she walked away.

"Okay, I get it," Al sighed. "I know it's stupid but she's the only person who can help us. Maybe it's like destiny!"

"Are you high?"

Al ignored Scorpius's last comment.

"Why do you think that she's the only one who can translate the page?"

"Because while she may be a complete cow, she's a genius when it comes to languages, translations and Charms," Scorpius stated. "Or it's fates way of telling us that our parents had it right, we shouldn't be friends and Quidel is the one who should be handling this, not us. Take your pick."

"Now you're the one being stupid," Al pouted.

"I'm really not."

"Come on," Al said, rolling his eyes. "We're going to find Eliza, and she's going to help us."

It was Scorpius's turn to roll his eyes but he dutifully followed Al out from behind the bookshelf.

"This isn't going to work," Scorpius muttered as he followed Al through a winding maze of bookshelves in search of someone he really didn't want to see.

The library was massive. And confusing. And as Scorpius had said before, it smelled funny. Al didn't seem to care much about this though, he was too busy searching for Eliza. Why Eliza went to the library was beyond Scorpius. As much as he disliked her he had to concede the fact that she was talented. Really, really talented. The only thing she needed to go to the library for was Transfiguration. That was something that Scorpius was rather smug about.

Al and Scorpius were winding through the bookshelves for nearly twenty minutes before they found Eliza. She was sat at a table by a window, piles of books and parchment all over the place. Scorpius noted that the books all seemed to be on Transfiguration and they all seemed to be turned to the pages on _reparifarge_. In front of Eliza was an essay that was freshly written, Scorpius could still see the ink glistening. The essay was written in strange letters that he couldn't understand. Apparently she was going for the "if you can't understand it you can't mark it as wrong" method for not doing her homework correctly. Eliza's head was lolling against the wall, her eyelids shut and her long hair braided over one shoulder.

She was asleep, but it wasn't a peaceful sleep. Eliza was twitching, and muttering. Her eyelids were fluttering erratically and her lips were moving, incomprehensible words spilling out. They were all in a language that Scorpius didn't understand.

"Eliza," Al said reaching out to grasp her shoulder. Eliza didn't respond. Al shook her slightly, and then a little harder.

Eliza's eyes snapped open, her pupils dilated in what looked like fear. The shallow breaths she'd had while asleep vanished and she was breathing heavily her hands were clutched into fists and her knuckles were a bright white through the olive skin. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were wide. She frantically took in a breath and looked around.

"Are you all right?" Al asked in concern. Eliza was still staring at her desk. "Eliza?"

"What!" she snapped. She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and stood up. She grabbed her books. "What do you want Potter?"

"Um, well, we, that is, Scorpius and I-"

Scorpius coughed.

"Okay, _I_, need your help. We need something translating..."

"So use Google translate," Eliza hissed, leaning across to grab her bag. She shoved her books into her bag which looked far too small to contain them all, swung it across her shoulder and stalked off, her hair swinging behind her in a long plait.

"You know," Scorpius began conversationally. "She might be awful, but she has taste when it comes to hair. I wonder how long it took her to get that plait."

"And you say that I'm an idiot," Al muttered. "Come on!"

* * *

Eliza was pushing her way through the corridors. Her head hurt and she felt dizzy. Also she wanted to throw up. A lot. That dream had scared her. It wasn't a familiar one, she'd never dreamed of that before, but she recognised the people in her dream, they had cropped up time and time again. And every time she awoke she felt exactly the same, dizzy, tired and wanting to throw up.

She barely managed to stay awake these days, her eyes closing rapidly almost as soon as she entered lessons. The only ones she managed to properly concentrate in were Herbology and Charms. Mostly because they were the only ones that she really, truly enjoyed. Everything else just seemed like another way of keeping them all busy doing absolutely nothing for days on end and then giving them homework to keep them busy in the evenings. Eliza hated homework, she really did. It seemed completely pointless to her. All they were doing was regurgitating the rubbish they had learned in the day.

"...alright?" Eliza looked up to see Professor Omega, her Astronomy teacher, standing in front of her, looking concerned.

"Hhmm?"

"Are you alright, Miss Leytii," Omega repeated.

"What, oh yeah," Eliza mumbled. "I'm fine."

Ignoring her teacher's concern she stumbled on along the corridor, making her way slowly down to the Slytherin common room. She felt sick. Her head was pounding and her legs felt like jelly. The bag slung over her shoulder weighed a ton all of a sudden and the smell of freshly baking bread that had been wafting through the hallways all week was making her stomach churn.

Instead of going to her common room Eliza found that her legs were leading her towards the Astronomy tower. It was getting late and the stars were beginning to shine through the clouds. Eliza had always loved looking at the stars. Carmarthen wasn't exactly well known for its excellent stargazing areas though, so she hadn't had the opportunity to do much stargazing in Wales, and they weren't allowed to just look at the stars in Astronomy, so she hadn't really had much of an opportunity to do much stargazing at Hogwarts either.

She sat on the edge of the Astronomy tower, her legs dangling over the edge. It was a Saturday so Eliza wasn't wearing her robes which, while they did occasionally look ridiculous, were quite warm. Instead she was dressed in a pair of bright red shorts over her black and white striped leggings, a tank top and a holey jumper with a pair of red converse high-tops. Her lack of clothing in the cool evening air was the reason she was shivering slightly. Eliza wrapped her arms around herself.

The nausea she had been feeling was beginning to ebb away very, very slowly. She leaned against one of the pillars, her eyelids fluttering shut once more...

"Liza!"

Eliza jerked awake. She turned around to see her brother Alex standing behind her, a smug look across his face. Behind _him_, stood Leander, Zach and the final member of their group, Brian Walker or, as Eliza liked to refer to him, B-Walk. All three of them had grins on their faces.

"Is wittle baby Wiza tired?" Leander teased. Eliza rolled her eyes and stood up.

"The only thing that's tired are your jokes," she smiled sarcastically before turning to Alex. "What do you want Alex?"

"Nothing kid," he grinned. "But this isn't a bad place to talk about our next prank, and when we found you up here, we were wondering if you wanted to join in. We would always use your sly cunning."

A sigh escaped Eliza's lips. Normally she would have said yes, but she was tired and right now, all she wanted to do was sleep.

"Thanks, but I'm not up for it right now," she shrugged. "I'll see you around."

She picked up her bag and made her way down the spiral staircase of the Astronomy tower. Eliza was halfway down to the Slytherin common room when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned, pulling her wand out as she went.

"Whoa!" Alex said holding his hands up in surrender. "You took my eye out with that thing!"

"Santa mierda! You frightened me!" Eliza said, glaring at her brother.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to - would you put that thing away please?"

"What? Oh yeah, sorry," Eliza apologised, stowing her wand away in the waistband of her shorts. "Did you want me for something?"

"I wanted to see if you were alright," Alex said honestly. "You haven't been looking that great for a couple of weeks now."

"Oh thanks!" Eliza said indignantly. "That makes me feel so much better!"

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that you look tired. That's all."

"I am tired," Eliza sighed. "I've had a lot of homework and I haven't been sleeping that brilliantly for a couple of weeks. That's all."

"Are you sure?" Alex asked, concerned. Eliza scowled. She might be the younger sibling, but she was eleven not four. She didn't need to be babied. "How long have the nightmares been going on? Is your medication affecting them?"

"Lay off Alex," Eliza sighed. "I'm not in the mood for your overprotective crap right now."

"Overprotective crap?"

"All the "are you alright?" stuff. Always checking in on me. I love you Alex, but I'm a big girl now. I can take care of myself."

"Okay, there are two things wrong with that statement," Alex began. Eliza rolled her eyes. "You're only eleven. It's not like your fifteen. And you can't take care of yourself kid. I know you. You're just like dad, okay. If I didn't remind you, you wouldn't eat, you wouldn't sleep and all you'd do is work and read and draw."

"That's not true," Eliza objected.

"Isn't it?" Alex challenged. "I spent nine years tucking you into bed and reading you bedtime stories, remember. I know what you are like kid, I spent years pretending to be Tinkerbell for you."

"Yeah, and I really appreciate that," Eliza muttered, shaking her head. "But you've got your own friends now, and I need to do things on my own. You need to stop trying to protect me all the time. I don't need to be wrapped in cotton wool!"

"I'm not wrapping you in cotton wool! But you haven't made any friends since getting here! All you've done is insult people and walk out of classes! Did you know that you've caused so much trouble in your first two months that I've been called up to see Quidel fourteen times? Dad can't come into school, because he's a muggle, so I'm left picking up all the crap that you leave behind! I know the whole school thinks that I'm just a prankster who doesn't care about anything, but I'm not, okay. I want to do well, Liza. And I want you to do well too. You're my sister, and you're brilliant! Quidel showed me your marks. You're one of the best in your year but you're wasting everything being angry all the time!"

"You think I'm angry all the time!"

"Yeah! I do! You're so caught up in your own stuff that you don't even think about anyone else!"

"So now I'm selfish!" Eliza exclaimed, shaking her head in disgust.

"God Eliza! I was wrong, you know, when I said that you were just like dad. You're more like mum!"

Eliza froze.

"More-more like mum?" Eliza asked quietly.

Alex had his head in his hands.

"I thought-I thought you didn't remember mum," Eliza choked out. She was desperately blinking back tears, teeth biting into her bottom lip so hard she could taste the metallic tang of her own blood.

"I don't," Alex sighed. "I mean, I might as well not remember her. I only have three memories of her and they're all rubbish!" He nodded slowly. "In all of the memories I have of her, she's behaving exactly like you are now!"

"So, first I'm selfish, and now you're comparing me to a baby abandoning whore, who ruined both of our lives!" Eliza screamed. The air around her seemed to crackle with magic. Her eyes had narrowed into slits and her pretty face was twisted into a snarl.

"Don't call her that!"

"Why?" Eliza demanded. "It's true! She left us! Because of me!"

"It wasn't because of you," Alex said, staring at Eliza.

"Yes," Eliza laughed bitterly. "It was! I wasn't the perfect daughter that she wanted so she left! I am the reason that you don't have a mother any more. And you might not hate me now, but one day, when you realise that I'm the reason you don't have a family, you will. And I'd rather stop the pain now. Sooner rather than later and all that crap."

"What are you doing Eliza?"

"The right thing. For the first time in my messed up existence, I am doing the right thing," she said. A tear rolled down her cheek and it was soon followed by several more. "I love you Alex, I really do, but I don't want to see you again."

It was Alex's turn to stand frozen. Eliza reached up, cupping his face with her hand. She had to stand on tiptoe as he was so much taller than her but she leaned forward and gently planted a kiss on his cheek. She smiled at him, tears dropping from her eyes.

"Goodbye Alex."

With that Eliza turned around and walked away, tears streaking down her face. Alex was frozen there, stunned by his baby sister. By the time that he could breathe properly again Eliza was already down in the corridor by the Slytherin common room.

Her breaths were getting stuck in her throat and Eliza ignored everyone else in the common room as she made her way down the silver staircase to her dorm. She met Delilah Robinson on the stairs and practically pushed her out of the way in her attempt to get back to her room. When she reached the wooden door with her name on it she opened it up, slammed it shut and grabbed the chair from her dressing table, jamming it under the door handle so nobody could get in.

The moment that Eliza knew she was alone she broke down. She slid to the floor, her shoulders trembling with the force of the sobs that were wracking her body.

Later that night, when Eliza was stood in front of her dressing table, she looked into the mirror.

"I hate you," she said simply. After that she flopped onto the bed and curled up in a ball, out of tears already.

* * *

"There's something wrong with Eliza," Al stated. Scorpius rolled his eyes.

"There're a lot of things wrong with Eliza," he said. "Some of them being the fact that she has freaky gold eyes, a terrible temper and a tongue so sharp she could cut herself a mile off."

"You know what I mean," Al sighed. "Something's changed since Saturday. You don't think that she's changed her mind do you? About the translating thing."

"No, I don't," Scorpius replied in a bored tone, leafing through the Daily Prophet. "Did you know that some guy in Sheffield is challenging Kingsley Shacklebolt for Minister?" Al waved that off.

"Don't you think that this thing with Eliza is important?"

"Not really, no," Scorpius answered. "I do however think that some alcoholic squib attempting to hijack our political system is important."

"Please," Al rolled his eyes. "Like he could ever beat Kingsley! But I still think that Eliza's behaviour is weird."

"I agree," Scorpius said. Al looked up in surprise. Scorpius was still browsing through his paper. "I think that she has an unnatural appetite for misery, dismay and the agony of others. While she may be the perfect Slytherin, I dislike her intensely and think that she is incredibly weird."

"Okay, can you say that and not look like you're about to die of boredom please?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. How would you like me to say it?" Scorpius asked. "Because any other way would just be a lie. That girl is seriously messed up, and quite frankly, I do not care about the change in her."

"But don't you think it's strange that she's stopped insulting people the moment she sees them? She hasn't walked out of a Muggle Studies class since last Thursday, _and_ she doesn't say or do anything in Charms or Herbology anymore. We all know that she's not completely there, but she used to at least make people pay attention to her. There was just something about her that forced you to listen to all her insults and comments."

"Holy Merlin!" Scorpius gasped, his mouth dropping open. "You have a crush on Eliza Leytii!" he crowed.

"I do not!" Al protested. "I just think it's weird that she's stopped being, you know, her."

"Whatever you say," Scorpius smirked. Al threw a piece of toast at him.

He did not have a crush on Eliza. For one thing, he was eleven! Even his brother, who basically aspired to snog girls, hadn't had a crush at eleven. Well, not that he knew, anyway. Plus it was Eliza, and while the girl was seriously pretty, probably the prettiest girl Al had ever seen in fact, she was also the worst tempered, arrogant, insulting, conniving, sly, manipulative, devious, scheming, selfish person that Al had ever met. And Scorpius was right too, she did have really strange eyes. Seriously, who had gold eyes. Gold. It was just ridiculous. They were pretty though. Eliza might not be the person that he had met in Diagon Alley, but he was still sure that Anastasia Goldberg was still in there. Somewhere. Buried really, really, really deep within her.

The truth was though, he was right about Eliza. Previously she'd been snappy, and insulting. She liked to bite people's heads off the moment they tried to do anything and her lazy smirk always accompanied the stinging comments she made with a careless ease. But since Saturday, since they had talked to her in the library, she hadn't said anything rude or mean or downright offensive to anyone. She never put her hand up to mock people in class, and she hadn't walked out of Muggle Studies on the basis that it was offensive and insulting to be told about her own culture. Al could see her point on that, plus he was pretty sure that Newberry was wrong on quite a few things. He was more likely to trust Eliza as she was muggleborn. While Eliza walked out of class on a frequent basis she had never missed a Charms or Herbology lesson. They were her two best subjects and she liked to show off in them, but since Saturday she hadn't said a single word in either of them unless she was asked a direct question. She seemed tired now, and that was one thing she had never seemed like before. When she said something it was with a languid pleasure, her bright eyes sharp and alert at all times, her razor sharp tongue at the ready, just in case someone came up with a half decent comeback, however unlikely that was. Eliza had never really given a damn about what anyone else did or said, but now she just looked tired and bored by everything. It was kind of boring without Eliza and her terrible attitude, her obnoxious arrogance and her cutting insults.

"Now that we've established the fact that Al is insane," Scorpius began. "What lessons do we have today?"

"Transfigurat..." Al trailed off. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Eliza entering the hall. She stopped dead in front of her brother and immediately turned around, exiting the hall.

"Oh yay!" Scorpius muttered. "Al's gone back to Eliza town!"

Al waved Scorpius's comment off and nodded towards the Leytii siblings who were now arguing quietly in the entrance hall.

"Come on," Al said.

Ignoring Scorpius's grumbles he dragged him towards the exit. Apparently he wasn't the only one who'd had that idea. Several other people, mostly Ravenclaws it seemed, had gotten up and were gathering around them.

"...I don't care!" Alex Leytii was protesting.

"Well I do!" Eliza snapped. "I told you what was going to happen, now get the hell out of my face!"

"See this is exactly how she behaved!"

"Oh you did not go there!" Eliza had stepped forward to push Alex Leytii but he had grabbed her wrists. They were both glaring at each other furiously and Al wouldn't have been surprised if the ground around them erupted in flames.

"Trouble in paradise mudbloods?" a gorilla of a boy that Al recognised as a third year Slytherin by the name of Schobotsky sneered, stepping out into the arena. An intake of breath echoed around the entrance hall.

"Back off Schobotsky," Alex growled.

"Why, afraid your baby sister is going to get hurt?" Alex made a move but Eliza dragged him back. Instead she stepped forward, her gaze locked on the bigger boy.

"I understand," she said. "That you have some serious insecurities. It's hard not to when your birth certificate is an apology letter from a condom company and your parents couldn't afford the price that the mafia charge to get rid of useless lumps of flesh like you. But even so, you can't talk to me like that, just because I'm not so inbred that I look like a mix between a troll and a gorilla." Almost everyone gathered round them let out a laugh.

"You're going to get it mudblood!" Schobotsky hissed.

"I don't think so," Eliza replied. "You see, there aren't many things in life that I'm good at, but Charms is something that I can do. And you'll be pleased to know that you're helping in furthering my education." A wicked smirk spread across her face. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Schobotsky didn't even have time to open his mouth before Eliza's spell hit him. His limbs sprung together and he wobbled there for a moment before toppling over. Everyone burst into laughter at the sight of Schobotsky's furious face frozen on the floor, his body stuck together. Eliza's smirk was back on her face as she walked towards the corridor that led to the Slytherin common room, deliberately treading on Schobotsky's face. The crunch of his nose breaking under her foot echoed around the entrance hall and blood gushed from it.

"Oh we're not done!" Alex said, grabbing Eliza's arm and pulling her back.

"Yeah, we are!" Angry Eliza was back, her eyes flashing dangerously. She wrenched her arm out of Alex's grip. "I told you I didn't want to see you ever again, and I stand by that!"

"Please don't do this." Alex was speaking softly now and Al was pretty sure that he could see tears in Eliza's eyes.

"I have to," she said simply.

Al had seen his fair share of storming off. James stormed off when he lost. Lily threw tantrums and stormed off when she didn't get her own way. Al had watched Eliza's epic storm offs in Muggle Studies, Transfiguration, Potions and she'd even thrown a tantrum in DADA once, causing Highclere to give them all detention. She was the queen of storming off and she didn't disappoint in the moment. She held her head high and pushed everyone out of the way as she strolled off, her killer glare back on her face.

"Well, that was interesting," Scorpius shrugged. "Do you think the house elves would mind me grabbing a cream bun before class?"

Instead of listening to him Al began pushing through the crowd in pursuit of Eliza. Being of smaller stature Al had to push quite a lot to move through the mass of people. He was ducking under people's arms and jumping up to see where she was. It was irritating that he couldn't actually see over the heads of the older students even when he was jumping.

Eventually Al made it to the end of the corridor.

"Eliza?" he called out, looking around. He ducked into a passageway hidden behind the state of Roderick Plumpton. Al was almost sure that he'd seen Eliza go into this passage. "Eliza, are you in here?" He looked around in the semi-darkness.

"Lumos!"

Al whipped around to see Eliza glaring at him furiously. Her wand tip was lit up and Al could see a glistening tear tracing its way down her cheek. Eliza noticed Al gazing at it and wiped it away quickly.

"What do you want Potter!" she hissed.

"I know this probably isn't the best time, but I was wondering if you would reconsider the translating thing. I don't actually know what goggle translate is, but um, you're the only person in the school who can translate this, so you know-"

"Are you insane!" Eliza demanded. "Why the hell would I help you?"

"Because it's the nice thing to do?"

"Oh yeah!" Eliza replied sarcastically. "And I'm sure that you do the nice thing all of the time. I guess that I'm just an awful, arrogant, obnoxious, cruel, insufferable bitch! I couldn't possibly understand the fact that you're just doing the nice thing!"

"Ah," Al said intelligently. Eliza shook her head in disgust.

"Did you really think that I didn't know what you called me behind my back?" she sneered. Al opened his mouth to speak. "No, it's fine! I've been called a lot of things in my time, Potter! Taffy, sheep-shagger, metal eyes, freak face, Israeli (and that may not seem like an insult to you, but when you live in Wales, it really is), Nazi, broccoli head, poodle, and most recently, mudblood! You can add any adjective you like to those! And you have, haven't you? You and your precious little gang!"

"Look, Eliza," Al began in a soothing voice. "I know how you feel-"

"Do you!"

A hysterical laugh escaped Eliza's lips.

"You think _you_ know how _I_ feel!" Al nodded cautiously. Eliza shook her head. "Really Potter? You know what it's like to live your whole life in a lie! You know how it feels to be mocked because of the colour of your skin, because of your accent or because of your appearance? I take it you know the feeling of complete betrayal and misery! You know what it's like to live your entire life believing that you were normal, and that the only magic in the world was in things like Peter Pan and Tinkerbell and stupid fairy stories; only for you to be told that you have magic! And not just that you have magic, but your father knew that you did, and never told you!"

Al was stunned.

"But it isn't that bad! You want to know why?"

Eliza didn't wait for an answer. She was still ranting furiously.

"He isn't my actual father! My actual father is God knows who and God knows where on this miserable planet! I've never met the man! I don't even know his stupid name! All I know is that my mother was stupid enough, and enough of a slapper to get herself knocked up by him! And then, once I was born, I was too much of a reminder, or I wasn't pretty enough, or I was- Oh I don't know! Whatever reason it was, she left because of me and I got left with her ex-husband and my half-brother because I had nowhere else to go! I'm the reason that they don't have her anymore! So unless you know how it feels to be unloved, and alone, miserable and ashamed of who you are, so much of a mess in life that you tore a family apart before you were even born, then you don't know how I feel!"

She cast a repulsed look at Al.

"And you never will!"

"Eliza..."

But Eliza ignored Al. She shook her head and made towards the exit.

As she passed Al he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to face him.

"Let go of me!" Eliza hissed.

"No, you need to hear me out."

"I don't need to do anything!"

"Please! All I want to do is talk. You don't need to do anything but stand there and listen," Al said softly.

"I said, get-off-me!"

A sharp pain shot through Al's arm. Eliza had dug her nails into his flesh, loosening his grip on her arm enough for her to free herself. She glared at him furiously.

There was a loud bang and Al found himself being flung backwards into the tunnel wall. Eliza's hand was gripping Al's throat and he was forced to look into her anger filled eyes.

"Never ever think that you can touch me!" she practically screamed.

"I-I-I'm sorry!" Al choked out.

Eliza's hand slackened and she stepped back staring at him. The anger in her eyes had vanished and it was replaced by shock and fascination. She tilted her head to one side and gazed at Al's neck, much like a vampire about to devour its prey. Her arm was raised and pointing to the piece of skin between Al's neck and collar bone.

"What-what is that?"

"What's what?" Al asked.

"That mark on your neck," Eliza breathed out. "I-I'm sure I've seen it before." She screwed up her face like she was in pain.

"It's nothing," Al shrugged. "Just a birthmark."

It really was just a birthmark. Al had had it since, well, since birth. Nobody had ever stared at it so intently before though.

"I need to go!" Eliza looked slightly manic. Her breathing had gotten heavier and she looked pale and dizzy. She pushed herself away from the wall, stowed her wand inside her robes and stumbled forward a few places.

"Eliza, are you okay?" Al questioned. Eliza attempted to brush him off but she lurched slightly and Al had to catch her before she fell.

"I'm-I'm fine," she managed.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. Eliza was stood up, leaning against the wall, her eyes fluttering shut before she forced them open again. Her chest rose and fell with every breath that she took. She stepped forward but her foot slipped from beneath her. Her knees buckled and her legs turned to jelly, her whole body collapsing down to the stone floor. Al's mouth opened in terror as Eliza's head cracked sickeningly against the stone wall before she landed in a heap on the floor.

Al was kneeling next to her in seconds. His hands were cradling her head and he looked down in horror. There was a hot, sticky liquid seeping from Eliza's head onto his hands. He removed his hands from where they were, Eliza's head flopping back onto the stone floor lifelessly. Though it was dark in the passageway Al could still see what the liquid was and he almost threw up. Where his pale white skin normally was, was a hand covered in the hot, sticky, scarlet liquid that was Eliza Leytii's blood.


	9. The Olanzapine Days

**Finally, my ninth chapter is complete! Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing my story! I'm afraid that my updates will be somewhat slower now as summer term starts on Tuesday so I'll be back at school with homework, rowing training and as the rounders season is starting I'll have rounders matches too. Plus my end of years are coming up so I'll have to start revising for those as well.**

Acupuncture was something that Eliza had experienced before. It was not something that she was eager to experience again. She had never liked needles particularly, she'd had plenty of them inserted into her skin for various jabs and injections though, so she was used to them by the time she was seven. While her grandparents were visiting them in China, Grandmother had taken her to a spa where she'd been subjected to an hour of acupuncture. The sensation of thousands of needles pricking into her skin was not the pleasant of sensations.

Which was why, as Eliza slowly opened her eyes, she groaned out loud at the pain. It was like someone had decided to embed about three thousand needles in her head. It wouldn't be that bad if three thousand needles were actually embedded in her head, Eliza mused. Acupuncture could be very good for a person. It really could improve your circulation, which, when the circulation was focused at the head, may be able to increase your brainpower. Unfortunately for Eliza, it just _felt_ like three thousand needles invading her head, and there was no circulation improving concentration. Quite the opposite in fact.

Blinking, she sat up slowing, the bright white light in the hospital wing temporarily blinding her. Wait, why was she in the hospital wing?

A hand moved involuntarily up to her head, and Eliza felt the soft cotton of bandages on her forehead. What was going on?

The last thing she remembered was running from the entrance hall to the passageway behind that statue of the strange guy with the broomstick. She'd been talking in the tunnel with Potter right before she blacked out. Well, to be fair to both herself and that ridiculous porcupine haired idiot, he was the one who had done most of the talking. She'd just sort of screamed at him. A lot. About some very... personal matters too. Oh joy! She hated making a fool of herself.

"Fan-bloody-tastic!" Eliza muttered, looking around the hospital wing.

She was the only in there, and all the white was starting to make her head hurt. Not that the pain could get much worse than it already was. With a groan Eliza flopped back onto the bed, and then clutched her head from the pain.

"Ho-ly -"

"Miss Leytii!"

Eliza pushed herself up onto her elbows. Standing in front of her was a young woman with dyed pink hair in a feathered cut. She was dressed in a matron's uniform, but Eliza had never seen her in the hospital wing before, and the sad thing was that she had been there plenty of times with her brother before. Alex, Leander, Zach and Walker got into a lot of scrapes.

"What do you want?" she moaned, slumping back into her pillows and turning over, only for pain to shoot through her forehead. "Who are you anyway?"

"I'm Florence Cushing," the woman said, offended. "I'm here as part of my healer training."

"Oh." Eliza nodded, or tried to at least. "Listen, I don't want to sound rude or anything-"

"You're not doing a very good job," Trainee Healer Cushing muttered. Eliza glared at her.

"Oh go take a tranquilliser," she snapped before taking a deep breath to calm herself. "As I was saying, I don't want to sound rude or anything, but there's no way in hell that I'm letting you take care of me. You're barely out of nappies. Are you even qualified?"

"Yeah, I am!"

When she saw the smirk on Cushing's face Eliza knew she should have kept her mouth shut. It wasn't her fault. Not entirely anyway. That switch in peoples brains, the one that stopped them from blurting out insults and such like. It didn't work for Eliza. Most of the time. Strangely enough though, whenever she was around Alex she seemed to be able to bite her tongue. Maybe her brother was more magical than she thought. That or she was actually slightly scared of him. It was probably the first one though. Alex just wasn't scary. Simple as.

Eliza focused all her attention on Cushing. Then she wished that she hadn't.

"Now then, Miss Leytii," Cushing said with a malicious grin on her face. Eliza bit back a groan. "Last night you sustained some quite serious head injuries. I cleaned the wound and healed it, but you'll have some pain and a chance of concussion for a while."

"Oh yay!" Eliza enthused sarcastically.

"Luckily for you, I have several potions for you to take to stop the pain and ease the concussion. They will taste disgusting, but it's much better than the nicer tasting ones. You don't mind do you?"

Eliza opened her mouth to retort wittily but Cushing was already walking away.

Cushing returned moments later with five vials of differently coloured potions. Eliza shut her eyes for a moment and tried not to think about what she was drinking as she accepted the vials one by one from the trainee healer and downed each of them in one.

She gagged at first, several of the potions burned her throat as they went down and the aftertaste was disgusting, but they did dull the pain somewhat, and she stopped feeling as dizzy.

"Better?" Cushing asked mockingly.

"Much better, thank you," Eliza replied sweetly. "Now if you don't mind..."

Cushing let out a strangled noise as Eliza pushed the covers down and swung her legs off of the bed. As soon as she had done that she wished that she hadn't. Her stomach lurched frighteningly and her head was spinning wildly. Stars twinkled before her eyes, and she clutched onto the nearest solid object to steady herself. Unfortunately that object was Cushing.

Not great Eliza, she thought to herself.

For the first time since Eliza had woken up, Cushing's face softened slightly. She helped Eliza back onto the bed, eyes gleaming with sympathy for the young girl.

Eliza hated that look. She hated being and feeling weak. She hated Cushing and Potter, both of whom had seen her in this weakened state, but most of all she hated herself for being weak like this. She was Eliza Leytii for God's sake! She was quite literally the only person in the whole of Wales who could single-handedly take down a whole classroom full of idiots and make the teacher cry with one sentence. She wasn't supposed to feel like this. Tired, so very tired. All of the time. Lethargy was consuming her, inside out.

"Come on," Cushing sighed, helping her back into bed. "I'll get you some dreamless sleep potion. That might help."

"No!" Eliza managed to get out. She shook her head frantically. "I need-I need, um, Lithium, or Divalproex, or um, Carbamazepine!" Cushing frowned at her. "Please, I need it!" Eliza searched around the room with her eyes, her face lighting up when she saw her bag. Cushing saw where her gaze was and dropped the bag into her lap. "Come on!" Eliza begged as she searched through her bag. She found the back pocket and pulled out a small cardboard box.

"What is that?" Cushing asked.

"A pointless waste of cardboard, foil and plastic!" Eliza groaned, throwing it back onto the bed and collapsing backwards. It was empty.

"Are you alright Miss Leytii?"

Eliza shook her head, tears running down her cheeks.

"I want to see Alex," she said after a moment of silence.

Cushing nodded, sending a sympathetic look to Eliza. Eliza simply scowled at her and pulled her knees up to her chest.

* * *

When Scorpius Malfoy was six years old he fell from a tree and broke his arm.

He had been playing in the garden when it happened. His cousins had come to stay with them for the summer and so he had been forced to play with them. Callista and Halia were both older than him by several years and so they liked to pick on him and make them do stupid or dangerous things.

It had been Halia's idea to play something called Twenty-one Dares. Scorpius had never played it before and so he had no clue as how to play. If he had been older he might have realised that they were just messing with him and that he had no need to eat worms or try and hold his breath underwater for five whole minutes. But he was only six and so he didn't realise until later.

The dare that broke his arm was the dare that Callista had given to him. She dared him to hang upside down from the highest branch of the horse chestnut by the edge of the lake for twenty minutes. Not wanting to be called a coward by his cousins Scorpius had clambered up the tree, grabbing at knots and branches. When he reached the uppermost tree he had hung upside down, his eyes tightly shut.

Scorpius wasn't sure how long he was hung there before it happened. All he knew was that Halia's cat Ace had streaked out from somewhere, causing a commotion with his cousins. When Callista had screamed an ear shattering scream Scorpius had opened his eyes, looking down, and his legs had slipped. He fell for what seemed like hours before landing on the ground in a painful heap, his left arm badly broken, the bone poking through his skin.

The pain had been excruciating but all Scorpius could concentrate was the blood. It was everywhere, all over his arm and seeping into his clothes. Ever since then, he had hated it.

He hadn't gone as neat freak as he normally would when he had seen Al's shirt on the floor of their dorm room, soaked in blood, the normally pristine white cotton brown with dried blood, instead he had dropped his bag on the floor and rushed into the bathroom before emptying the contents of his stomach into the basin of the sink.

Once Scorpius had washed his mouth out he had used a pencil to pick up the bloody shirt and thrown it in the fire. Al had stared at him and just shook his head, his mouth open slightly in disbelief. Scorpius had, of course, offered to lend Al one of his own shirts, or pay for another, but Al had shaken off the offer and collapsed onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow and pulling his silk sheets over his head. Al had explained, his voice muffled by the material of his pillow and bed sheets, what had happened to Eliza and, by extension, the reason why he had been absent from that morning's classes. Scorpius promised to cover for Al that afternoon and then left his friend to wallow in misery and guilt.

That had been a week ago though. Scorpius had practically dragged Al down to breakfast the morning after Eliza's accident and made him eat breakfast before forcing him to come to lessons.

Al had been distracted ever since. He barely listened in class, which meant that Scorpius had to take extra care with his notes as Al would copy them up when he got out of his slump, he didn't even attempt spells anymore and in Potions on Wednesday he hadn't done a single thing leaving Scorpius to try and do the potion; try being the optimum word.

At meal times Scorpius pretty much had to feed Al to get him to eat anything. By the third day of Al's wallowing he had literally been throwing food at his best friend. Normally it would be funny, but Al didn't even notice that Scorpius was throwing food at him until the bell rang and Scorpius forced him to lessons. Merlin's beard, it was becoming utterly exhausting. Scorpius knew that Al had put up with his crazy tendencies, his slightly obsessive cleanliness and his showering routine, but seriously, this self-pitying was getting on his nerves.

He had dragged Al to the library at lunchtime on Thursday in an attempt to get him to actually do some work. That wasn't the best idea he'd ever come up with because instead of Al doing any work or being productive he just sat there sighing every few minutes.

As Al sighed for the forty eighth time in the past half hour (but hey, who's counting) Scorpius, and the nib of his quill, snapped.

"Alright! That's it!" he fumed. "Al, I have put up with your wallowing bath of self-pity for an entire week now and enough is enough!"

"Hhmm?" Al asked, looking up. "Did you say something?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes.

"Stop wallowing!" he ordered, pointing his broken quill at his friend. "It's really annoying!"

"I'm sorry," Al sighed.

"I get that you're worried about Eliza. We all are." Al raised his eyebrows. "Okay, so it's basically just you and her brother that's worried about her. But the point still stands!"

"What point?"

"That point that you're making yourself ill," Scorpius sighed. "You're not eating, or sleeping, you can't concentrate and you're blanking out at stupid moments. While the rest of us might not be concerned about Eliza, we are all worried about you."

"I can't stop thinking about it," Al said, closing his eyes for a moment. "She was so angry up until that last moment, and she went all weird."

"More weird then normal?"

"Yeah, she saw my birthmark and then she kind of collapsed."

"Just like that?"

"Sort of, she tried to walk and then she just fainted. It was actually kind of scary. And there was blood everywhere!"

"Oh I know!" Scorpius muttered. "I saw your shirt."

"Do you think that I should go see her?" Al asked abruptly.

"And say what?" Scorpius questioned. "Oh, sorry about what happened! I didn't mean to get you so angry that your craziness showed up and you collapsed!"

"I'm pretty sure she'd punch me if I said that," Al mused. Scorpius nodded. "Come on, I'm bored of working. I want an éclair before Transfiguration."

"You haven't done any work," Scorpius pointed out as he followed Al out of the library and down to the kitchens.

When they reached the kitchens, it was Scorpius who leaned forward and tickled the pear before wrenching the door open. He led the way in, waving his hands in the air as the pair discussed the article on the Falmouth Falcons that had come out the day before.

"All I'm saying is that if they wanted one of the Broadmoor Brothers to manage, they should have picked Karl!"

Al rolled his eyes at Scorpius's impassioned speech and then stopped dead.

Stood in front of them, arms folded and eyebrows raised, was a group a three Ravenclaw boys, the ones that hung around with Alex Leytii. They were all wearing identical smirks, smirks that Al had seen on Eliza many times before. It seemed to suit her far better than the three boys though.

"Hey, aren't you that kid from the library?" a boy with honey blonde curls said, frowning slightly. Scorpius was sure that he'd heard his name but he couldn't remember it.

"Um, yeah?"

"You don't seem very sure," the boy grinned. "But that is to be expected. You have enough hair gel in your hair to congeal your brains."

He'd clearly been hanging out with Eliza and taking notes on her one-liners.

"You guys are friends with Alex Leytii right?" Al interrupted and Scorpius groaned quietly. Al was going there again.

"Why does everyone always assosisate us with Alex?" a boy who's brown hair was spiked up with gel groaned.

"It's associate," the blonde boy corrected. "And they do that because everyone knows Alex. He's our Freddie Mercury."

"Who's Freddie Mercury?" the brown haired boy asked. The blonde boy stared at him in horror.

"You are dead to me," he stated blandly.

"Why? Who is this Freddie Mercury guy?"

"Okay, we need to talk. You can't not know who Freddie Mercury is! He's only the greatest rock star ever! His music is like the holy grail of all rock! Life would not be complete without Freddie! God, Zach, you have like, no soul if you don't like Freddie. Bohemian Rhapsody is possibly the greatest hit of all time!"

"I still don't know who he is!" Zach said, rolling his eyes at the blonde.

"Are they always like this?" Scorpius asked the one remaining boy who hadn't said anything yet.

"Oh yeah!" he nodded. "Alex and Leander, that's the blonde one, are usually the worst. Then Leander gets onto the subject of Freddie Mercury and you can't shut him up. Seriously, once he gave us a three hour long rant on how Killer Queen wasn't just a good song, but also a serious part of gay, lesbian and drag culture."

"Wait what?" Scorpius was really confused.

"Don't ask," the boy sighed. "You'll only end up with a headache."

"...just ask B-Walk!" Leander was shouting now.

"Who's B-Walk?" Al asked.

"Me," the boy Scorpius had been talking to sighed. "Most people call me Walker, but Eliza decided that she wanted to call me B-Walk and the idiots I call my friends thought that it would be a good idea to copy the ten year old girl. So, you know..."

"Speaking, of Eliza!" Al interrupted once again, effectively stopping Leander and Zach's argument. "Do any of you know if she's alright?"

"Oh yeah," Leander shrugged. "Alex got called to the hospital wing when she woke up. She had an emotional meltdown, they forgave each other, as far as we know it's all sunshine and daisies for them. Besides, Alex would forgive her even if she murdered someone, even if it was one of us. He just can't say no to that girl. And she has emotional meltdowns at least once a week. It's nothing to worry about. You just get used to it."

"Told you the girl was insane," Scorpius said simply.

Al punched him.

"Ow!" Scorpius complained.

"That did not hurt! I barely touched you!"

"Oh dear, we have another case of Leytitus," Walker sighed.

"We should probably be going," Leander said, staring at Al and Scorpius who were both bickering like a pair of wild cats. "It's weird when we see people who are basically younger, less good-looking, slightly annoying and far less talented versions of ourselves acting like us."

"Okay, dude," Walker said. "You've been spending too much time with Eliza."

"Shut up!"

Al and Scorpius didn't even notice that the Ravenclaws had gone. When they finally looked up the kitchen was devoid of all other humans. Scorpius grabbed a cream cake from a passing house elf before he and Al set out for Transfiguration.

"You have cream on your nose," Scorpius said as they turned the corner.

"What, no I don't!" Al said. Scorpius sent a smirk his way.

"You do now," he grinned, smearing his cream cake on Al's nose. Al rolled his eyes and flicked his tongue up to lick the cream off of his nose, now smirking at Scorpius who just stared for a moment before shaking his head and laughing. "You, Mr Potter, are insane!"

"Says you!" Al laughed.

"Potter, Malfoy!"

The boys turned around to see Professor Grant leaning out of his classroom door. He sent a harsh smile at them and gestured for them to get in. Al and Scorpius exchanged looks before hurrying in and taking their normal seats at the back of the classroom.

"Oh and Mr Malfoy," Grant said pleasantly. "If you don't want me to know that you've been in the kitchens eating cream cakes, you might want to wipe the chocolate from your mouth first!"

Scorpius's hand went to his mouth and he wiped the chocolate from it as the rest of the class, Al included, sniggered away.

The lesson was interesting. For Scorpius at least. Transfiguration was his favourite lesson, it was also his best. This kind of magic came to him so easily and it was far more interesting than any other magic that he'd learned so far. He was possibly the only one who took on pretty much everything that Grant told them and actually used it.

They were looking at Switching Spells when the door opened. Everyone immediately turned to look at the two people who had just entered. One of them was Professor Quidel. The other was Eliza Leytii.

Silence fell upon the room and everyone stared as Eliza made her way to her chair, eyes down, avoiding the gaze of her classmates.

Quidel and Grant were having a quiet conversation, their backs turned to the students, at the front of the classroom. Grant nodded at something that Quidel said and Scorpius strained his ears to hear what the pair of teachers were conversing about. He heard snatches of the conversation, but none of it made any sense. Everyone else in the class was torn between staring at Eliza and trying to listen in on the teachers' conversation. Al and around half of the class, mostly the girls, went for staring at Eliza. The other half was leaning towards Grant and Quidel, desperately trying to listen to what the two were talking about.

"Alright you lot!" Grant snapped the moment Quidel had departed from the classroom. "Get back to work. Miss Leytii," Eliza looked up. "Swap places with Mr Potter please. Mr Malfoy will help you catch up."

Both Eliza and Al nodded slightly and stood up, gathering their things. They passed each other as they swapped places, both ignoring each other pointedly. Scorpius rolled his eyes. They needed to sort themselves out! And preferably as soon as possible. That way, Al could stop moping over his guilt at what happened and Eliza could go back to her insulting ways.

"Hi," Eliza said softly as she took Al's recently vacated seat.

"Hi," Scorpius replied in surprise. That was probably the nicest thing Eliza had ever said to him. And that was really sad when he thought about it.

Eliza opened her books and turned to the page after the one that they had been on before her accident. Scorpius took this time to study her. Al was right about her looking tired. She was paler, more drawn, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her eyes were duller too. There was no fire in them, no cutting insults ready to roll off of her razor sharp tongue, there was no "Eliza" about her anymore. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail which meant that she hadn't been bothered to do it up the way she normally did; and Eliza _always _bothered to do her hair. It was like an unspoken rule within Slytherin that you _had _to put an effort into your appearance. The way you dressed and did your hair said a lot about a person. Everyone in Slytherin, excepting Al, followed the unspoken rule and Eliza was no different. Plus, Scorpius knew that she had to spend a lot of time on her hair, anyone who had that much hair and still managed to make it look good had to.

"Are you alright?" Scorpius asked, looking at Eliza.

She took a deep breath.

"I'm getting there," she answered.

Scorpius frowned slightly but nodded, turning back to the Transfiguration work they were supposed to be doing.

"So, what are we doing?" Eliza asked quietly.

"I'll start you with the stuff we did on Monday," Scorpius began, showing Eliza the work he'd done as he began going through it all.

* * *

Halloween had arrived. It seemed strange to Al that he had been at Hogwarts for two whole months as it had gone by so quickly. On the morning of October 31st they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors.

For the first year Slytherins the day went by quickly. They had Potions and History of Magic straight after breakfast with a double session of Herbology to complete the morning off followed by the worst DADA lesson ever (they were taking notes on how to treat a werewolf bite. Scorpius correctly said "go get a healer" and Highclere flipped) and finally Charms.

Charms was possibly the best lesson of the day. Professor Costello announced mere moments after they had entered that she thought they were ready to start making objects fly. The Slytherins, and the Hufflepuffs that they shared Charms with, had been dying to try making things fly since Costello had given her dramatic demonstration at the beginning of the year. She put them all into pairs to practice. Al was quite happy with his partner, Delilah Robinson was pretty good at Charms. Scorpius, on the other hand, was paired with Eliza, something that neither of them seemed particularly bothered about. That was something that surprised him actually. Since Grant had told Scorpius to help Eliza catch up with the work she had missed they had actually gotten along, or at least been civil. Occasionally Al caught Scorpius looking at Eliza with a thoughtful expression on his face at mealtimes. When he asked what Scorpius was doing, he merely replied "thinking".

"Now, remember that lovely wrist movement we've been practicing," Costello said. "A nice, smooth swish and flick! Don't forget that. The spell won't work if you don't perform the correct wand movement. And saying the incantation properly is _very_ important too. My teacher always told me to never forget Wizard Baruffio who said "s" instead of "f" and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest!"

"Is that true?" Al heard Scorpius question.

"If you try it, wait until I'm far enough away not to get trampled," Eliza remarked with a small smile on her face. Al, and the rest of the class stared for a moment before Costello reminded them to get back to work, though Al was sure that she'd been just as surprised as the rest of them.

The work was incredibly difficult. Al and Delilah swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desk. The only people in the class who had actually succeeded were Scorpius and Eliza. While Al could understand Eliza's almost immediate success, his mouth dropped open at Scorpius's. Though, when he thought about it, it wasn't really that surprising. Eliza had coached Scorpius through the whole thing, explaining it in detail to him and after several tries he'd got it right. A delighted smirk lit up Scorpius's face when he managed it. Both he and Eliza received praise and twenty house points from Costello, and by the end of the lesson they were the only two who managed to make their feather fly higher than three centimetres and longer than two seconds.

"Okay, you have to tell me how you managed to put up with Leytii!" Nico Vermont, one of their Slytherin housemates, exclaimed as they all walked down, even though they were actually walking up, to the Halloween feast several hours later.

"Leave her alone!" Scorpius defended her, sending a look at Nico. "She isn't that bad. She's actually alright if you get to know her."

"What, and you do?" Nico sneered. Scorpius shrugged.

"I know her better than you do," he said.

Al and Scorpius dropped behind the rest of their housemates on the journey. They almost at the Great Hall when Al noticed that the door to classroom eleven was open. The moonlight was streaming through the window and sitting on the wide windowsill was Eliza. Al bit his lip as he stopped dead.

"Go on," Scorpius said, motioning to Eliza. "I'll meet you in the Great Hall, and I'll save you some troll pudding." Al looked at him and Scorpius grinned, nudging him in slightly. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"Idiot!" Al muttered as Scorpius carried on, and he entered the classroom fully. "Wow!"

Al hadn't really been able to see it properly until he stepped in, but the classroom was decorated like a forest with real grass, moss, trees and plants. It was like some kind of forest clearing where wild woodland animals came to frolic in the moonlight. Shadows danced about the place, the moonlight giving a silver glow to anything that wasn't within the dark shadows.

Twigs and leaves on the floor crunched as Al made his way in but Eliza didn't turn her head until he was right next to her. She was dressed in jeans, a soft woollen jumper and a pair of brown suede boots, with her knees pulled up to her chest, her head resting against the cool glass of the window.

"Hello," she said in surprise. "What are you doing here?" Al shrugged.

"I came to talk to you," he said, joining Eliza on the windowsill and mimicking her position. "You looked kind of lonely."

It was Eliza's turn to shrug.

"And I figured we should probably talk about the accident."

Eliza let out a breath.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want," Al said hurriedly but Eliza shook her head.

"No," she said. "I need to talk about it. My therapist says that it'll help."

"You have a therapist?" Al asked. Eliza was silent for a moment. Then...

"Do you know what Bipolar Disorder is?" she asked. Al was completely mystified and he shook his head. "It's a mental disorder that affects the emotional responses in the brain. It causes intense mood swings and can bring on sudden fits of depressive or manic behaviour." Eliza paused for a moment, gulping in a breath and looking as if she were about to cry. "I was diagnosed seven months ago. At first I could manage it with Lithium and Divalproex." Al didn't want to interrupt what was clearly a difficult thing for Eliza to say by asking what Lithium and Divalproex were. "But recently, my episodes have been getting worse and I couldn't handle it so well. I tried upping the dosage of my medication but it didn't work out well." She let out a biting laugh. "After what happened," Eliza looked at Al awkwardly. "I spoke to the doctors-"

"Doctors are muggle healers right?" Al tried to remember. Eliza rolled her eyes and nodded.

"I spoke to some healers who specialise in mental disorders and they gave me some new medication to take and I have to go to fortnightly therapy sessions that are supposed to help me come to terms with my issues. My therapist, who is a complete idiot by the way, says that talking about my accident might help too."

Al nodded.

"What you said, about your dad and your mum... was it true?"

Eliza nodded.

"For years I thought that I was ordinary," she sighed. "Magic was something in fairy tales. It was Peter Pan, Tinkerbell, that sort of thing. The whole world was out there, and we were always travelling it. My dad's an archaeologist so we were always on digs in random places and it was brilliant! I loved it. And then, two years ago, we came back to Wales for good. Dad took a job at Cardiff University and we were stuck. Then Costello shows up on our doorstep saying that Alex has a place here, and that I'll go too in two years..."

"That can't have been easy," Al said sympathetically.

"I never wanted to be magic," Eliza shrugged. "But all of a sudden I was. And then dad said that he knew all along, because Mum had a kind of magic. Not the same as ours, but she was magic! I freaked. It felt like he'd been hiding a part of me from myself, and it hurt."

"I can see why," Al muttered.

"And Alex went off to Hogwarts, he got sorted into Ravenclaw, met Leander and Walker and Zach and he found himself. I was just left waiting in the muggle world, surrounded by people who had no idea of who I was or the power that was within me! Do you know what it's like to be mocked by people because of the colour of your skin, your eyes and even because I didn't have a mother?" Al shook his head. "I hated them so much. It was awful. And then came the diagnosis, and I was still angry at dad. Everything was just too much."

A sigh escaped Eliza's lips.

"I wasn't ready for... for all this!" she said, gesturing to the room. "I don't know what it is to have friends, and quite frankly I just don't like the people here. They're loud, obnoxious and they say the stupidest things."

Al snorted.

"Come on," he said. "The Halloween feast has already started, and it's going to be fantastic!"

Eliza shook her head.

"I don't think so," she sighed, biting her lip. "I don't think I'd be particularly welcome there."

"Of course you would!"

"Al, everyone hates me," Eliza pointed out.

"Not everyone hates you. You have Alex. He loves you," Al countered. Eliza rolled her eyes.

"Let me rephrase this," she said. "Everyone in Slytherin hates me."

"I don't hate you," Al replied quietly. "And neither does Scorpius. I'm pretty sure that he actually likes you."

"I like him too," Eliza said with a small smirk. "Once you get past the fact that he basically looks like an albino Barbie doll without boobs and has an incredibly obnoxious voice, he's pretty cool!" Al laughed loudly, eliciting a smile from Eliza.

"And me?" he asked. Eliza smirked.

"Well, there are a lot of things going against you," she informed him gravely. "For one thing, your family are awful. Your cousin has the intelligence and looks of a ginger beaver and your brother has harassed me with so much crap about muggles that every time he opens his mouth or comes within fifty feet of me I just want to punch him in the face, or, you know, hex him, or get Alex to do it for me."

"Is that all?"

"No, your hair looks like you've been dragged through a hedge backwards and I'm sure that there are small creatures in there, whether they're dead or alive is still undetermined."

"Okay," Al said. "Anything else?"

"You have no tact whatsoever," Eliza added. "But other than that, you're pretty cool too Al."

"That's the first time you've called me by my name," Al said in amazement. Eliza raised her eyebrows.

"Is it?"

Al nodded.

"Let's go," he said. "I heard that Quidel booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment. It'll be fun!" Eliza looked down for a moment and then looked up once more, a small smile upon her face. She nodded and a smile broke out across Al's face.

"Okay," Eliza allowed, rolling her eyes.

They both jumped down from the windowsill. Eliza brushed non-existent dirt off of her clothes as she did when she was nervous. Their journey to the Great Hall was silent as they were about twenty metres away. Nobody was paying any attention to them as they entered but the pair of first years stopped dead just after the doorway.

Neither of them had ever seen such an incredible sight. The Great Hall had been transformed from an already wonderful place to the most magical thing that anyone had ever seen. The thousands of candles that usually floated above the tables giving off light were gone, and in their place hundreds of pumpkins had been carved into lanterns that flickered with a warm glow. Either side of the double doors was a pair of vast pumpkins that must have been Hagrid's, they were big enough for at least three men to sit in. A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds. Both Al and Eliza sniggered as they saw several Gryffindor girls including Rose wave their arms in the air in an attempt to get rid of the bats. Orange and black streamers hung from the walls and the ceiling. At the foot of the walls, in an unbroken line around the room, stood more pumpkins bursting with sweets of every kind and colour, black cauldrons of enormous lollipops and stacks of skulls made from cake. The feast had appeared on the golden plates and everyone was too engrossed in their food to pay any attention to Al and Eliza.

Scorpius was sat towards the end of the Slytherin table. Al and Eliza headed towards him, both of them gazing around at the decorations. They joined their housemates and immediately piled food onto their plates. Scorpius glanced between the two of them and grinned, pushing a platter of fried shrimp towards them both.

"Eat up!" he said. "It's delicious!"

The whole feast was incredible. The house elves had really outdone themselves on the food, and the entertainment was great. Skeleton Sircus, a troupe of circus skeletons that Quidel had hired, spent half an hour making the students of Hogwarts laugh delightedly before the house elves served up the puddings, all of which were delicious. The whole hall was bussing with the noise of a thousand chattering students.

As Eliza was helping herself to some more basboosa and ice cream she said conversationally "You know, I had a look at that page you wanted me to translate, and I think I can do it." She looked at Al and Scorpius's open mouths. "If, you still want me to, that is," she offered uncertainly.

"Of course we do," Scorpius said. "But how did you get hold of it?"

"Some people pick locks," Eliza shrugged. "I pick pockets!"

Al snorted and all of a sudden the three of them were laughing hysterically, secluded in their own little bubble at the end of the Slytherin house table.

**A/N: I do not suffer from bipolar disorder so I hope that I didn't offend anyone who may have, or know anyone who has, bipolar disorder.**


	10. Silence In The Library

**To all of those who are actually still reading this story, thank you! I know I haven't updated in nearly a whole month, but I have been really, really busy lately with end of years, rounders and rowing. Here it is though, chapter 10. I hope you enjoy and review =D**

November was Al's least favourite month of the year. This was rather surprising because it was the month in which he celebrated his birthday. For most people, the month that they celebrated their birthday in was their favourite month because it meant presents. But for Al, the month of his birthday sucked. It was probably the weather that did it for him. As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in a thick layer of crunchy frost. On most days, if you looked out of one of the upstairs windows, you would see Hagrid defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves and enormous beaver skin boots. The weather aside though, November wasn't _that_ bad. The work in class was getting more interesting, and best of all, the Quidditch season had begun.

While Al had been initially disappointed that he hadn't gotten on the starting team, as he and Eliza huddled together in the Quidditch stands, wrapped in thick woollen cloaks, gloved hands clutching mugs of hot chocolate closer to their chests, watching their breath rise in wisps of white in front of their eyes as the Slytherin Quidditch team practiced, he didn't envy Scorpius in the slightest.

The reserve team didn't practice nearly as often as the starting team, and they never practiced for as long. Scorpius was out on the Quidditch field from six to eight every morning and then from four until eight after classes every day except Wednesday. On weekends the Quidditch captain, a hulking sixth year by the name of Marcus Anthony, had his team practicing for six hours before lunch and then another four after that. Scorpius was completely exhausted by the time he got in from training which was why it was lucky that Al and Scorpius had Eliza as a friend now.

Other than the rather excellent assistance Eliza gave concerning Charms, Herbology and Muggle Studies, her sharp wit provided plenty of laughs, mostly at other people's expense. She also came with some detailed stories of pranks that had been played by her brother, a great deal of which made the two boys roll on the floor with laughter. Her cool attitude was refreshing too, and Al found that once you got used to her occasional bouts of insanity she was actually very easy to be around.

"Oh God!" Eliza's teeth were chattering. "It's freezing out here!"

"I know," Al replied, equally as cold. "I don't suppose you could conjure up a fire right now could you?"

Eliza's eyes lit up.

"I can do better than that," she said, whipping out her wand. "_Tepores_!" Warmth washed over Al and he found himself relaxing, a contented smile spreading across his face. Eliza looked anxiously at him. "Did it work?" she asked. Al nodded and a relieved smile spread across her face. She repeated the spell on herself, sighing with delight as the cold was thawed from her bones.

"Don't you just love magic?" Al grinned. Eliza nodded gratefully. "Where did you find that spell? I'm sure it isn't a first year one."

"Third year actually," Eliza answered with a small smile. "Alex lent me his Charms textbook a few weeks ago."

"Well, I'm glad he did. Otherwise we'd still be frozen!"

Eliza sent a grin his way. "I bet Scorp's freezing up there!"

She was probably right. Al knew how cold it got up there, especially in November, and the Slytherin team had been practicing for about an hour and a half. Though he had attempted to be quiet when getting dressed for the morning, Scorpius had woken Al up and Al hadn't been able to get back to sleep so after another half an hour of tossing and turning restlessly, he had given up on sleep and just got dressed before leaving his dorm. He found Eliza in the common room, a muggle novel resting in her lap.

"How come you're already up?" Al had asked.

"Couldn't sleep," Eliza had shrugged in reply. "I'm pretty sure the giant squid started knocking, or flippering, my window at about half three this morning."

"Flippering?"

"What would you call it?" she challenged. Al had raised his eyebrows and then burst out laughing. Eliza had joined in mere seconds later. "Come on, let's get some breakfast. Then we can go and watch albino Barbie freeze to death!"

"We, uh, probably shouldn't be as excited about seeing our friend freeze," Al wheezed between laughs. Eliza shrugged again.

"What are friends for?" she asked simply.

Al and Eliza had eaten breakfast quickly before running back down to the common room to grab some cloaks, though Eliza ended up borrowing one of Al's as hers were all being washed or paper thin and not at all right for the freezing November air. Then they had begun the trek out to the Quidditch pitch neither of them wanting to talk too much in the freezing cold. The Slytherin team hadn't even noticed that they were watching, and that had been nearly forty minutes ago.

"How's your therapy going?" Al asked. Eliza shook her head, taking another sip of her hot chocolate.

"Well, my therapist is still a complete idiot obsessed with me "releasing my inner demons" and letting the real me show," she sighed. "We disagree on pretty much everything and I almost threw a cup of coffee on him the other day, on purpose of course." Al snorted. Eliza sent a sheepish smile his way. "But other than that, it's going great."

"You're mad," Al laughed.

"What can I say," Eliza shrugged. "I enjoy every minute of my madness."

Al rolled his eyes but grinned. Eliza's mood tended to be infectious. Before, when she was lonely and tired the lethargy had seeped from her, making everyone else depressed. Now though, she certainly seemed a lot happier, and the atmosphere in the Slytherin common room, and their classes, was a lot more relaxed. On several occasions in the past few weeks Eliza had had small bouts of unexplainable depression, but they didn't last much longer than an hour at most. She was slowly getting better with medication and therapy. Al wouldn't go so far as to call her normal, he quite frankly doubted that she would ever be normal, but then again, he couldn't really talk about normal seeing as he was far from it. In fact, Scorpius, with his obsessive cleanliness and extensive moisturising routine, was probably the most normal of them all. That was kind of sad when Al thought about it, but he didn't really care that much. At least he had people to share the insanity with.

"How many more detentions do you have left?" Eliza asked taking another sip of her chocolate. Al had finally worked off his detentions for the FL Riot, as it was now known, but as one of the "main perpetrators", he had been awarded another two weeks of detention along with Scorpius, Rose, McLaggen and Smith. Eliza had also initially been given detentions, but had been excused from them on medical grounds for the time being. It was something that Eliza was exceptionally grateful about, and something that annoyed both Al and Scorpius to no end. Eliza had merely poked her tongue out at them, a grin on her face. Scorpius had responded by throwing his thick, leather-bound Potions textbook at her and then pouted as Eliza stopped it in mid-air with a flick of her wand and yet another third year spell that was really quite inconceivable for her to know.

"One more and then I'm free," Al sighed. "I do feel bad for Scorp though, Quidditch has kind of taken over his life and so he's still got another three weeks left on his." Eliza winced.

"Damn, poor Barbie!"

That was another thing that Eliza had implemented as she became the third member of their group. As Al had been brought up in the muggle world and gone to school with muggles, he knew what a Barbie doll was. Scorpius didn't. So the first time Eliza had called him Barbie, he had been completely lost. Al had then had to explain what Barbie was, and why Eliza had decided to call him that. "He looks like an Albino Barbie without boobs!" she insisted. Al and Scorpius both disagreed, but other than being utterly insane, Eliza was also extremely stubborn, and had insisted on calling Scorpius that ever since. When Alex Leytii and his friends found out Alex and his best friend Leander burst into loud, obnoxious laughter while the other two stood completely mystified. Eventually Al, Scorpius and Eliza had left Alex and Leander rolling around on the floor, paralysed by laughter.

"Once you're done with detention tonight, I was hoping that you could meet me in the library," Eliza said. "I think I've almost finished translating that page."

"Really!"

Al's attention had been caught. Eliza hadn't had time to translate the whole page for several reasons. Firstly because they all had homework to do. Secondly because Eliza's therapy got in the way occasionally, and lastly, because the translation took a great deal of concentration, and it gave Eliza a headache if she had to do it for too long. Or so she claimed. Alex Leytii had informed Al that his sister was probably just being lazy, and had known Eliza for her entire life. All the same though, Eliza was just as curious about what Highclere was up to as Al and Scorpius were and was eager to discover the truth.

"I think so," Eliza replied breathlessly, an excited grin on her face. "I was up late last night finishing it off. I just have a few more words left, and then we'll know exactly what Highclere's up to!" Her eyes were sparkling with excitement.

"Well then, we'd better be prepared for what's to come!"

The two young Slytherins turned back to the training, their gaze completely focused on the seven players weaving around the pitch at lightning speed. Both of them were brimming with excitement and anticipation, their eyes burning with curiosity and an intangible thirst for the truth.

* * *

Scorpius was in pain. His whole body ached and muscles that he did not even know existed flexed painfully as he walked. The cold breeze coming in from the window sent bitter shivers down his spine. He winced as a twinge of pain shot through his aching legs; the library was a long walk from the Slytherin common room and even with an hour long soak his muscles burned slightly. Once he entered the library he felt the cool silence soothing him slightly.

Eliza had left yet another of her completely intangible messages on his bedside table. _Library, meet me. Page done. Need to see_, it read. If Eliza had written any quicker the words would have been completely indecipherable. As it was Scorpius was struggling to read her slanted scrawl. Normally her words flowed from her quill in a neat, elegant script but when she was rushing, or excited, it looked much like a spider dipped in ink had danced across the parchment before dying in a tangled heap. The messiness of this particular message led he to believe that Eliza had been both excited and in a rush. A small smile had spread across his face at what that meant. He knew exactly what Eliza had meant by her message and had scrambled to get to the library.

Most of the tables were filled with older students, very few first years came into the library. Ravenclaws and the occasional overachiever, Eliza being counted in that number, made up the entire population of the library. Scorpius made his way through a maze of bookshelves on his way to the table that he, Al and Eliza usually took when working.

Sitting in an alcove next to their usual table was Eliza. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, her boot clad left foot tapping away impatiently. She had braided her long curls back into a fishtail plait and finished it off with a dove hair band.

"There you are!" she cried, leaping up. "I've been waiting for nearly two hours. I left that message ages ago!"

"I did just have ten hours of Quidditch practice!" Scorpius objected indignantly. "Do you know how dirty and painful that gets?" Eliza shook her head; wrinkling her nose slightly. "Of course you don't! You don't play! But it is painful, messy and smelly! After every practice you need at least an hour to properly clean your body!"

"You shower for a whole hour?" Eliza asked incredulously. "Don't you end up looking like a raisin?"

"Well, yes," Scorpius stammered, blinking in confusion at his friend's words. "That-that's beside the point!"

"I'm sorry, okay," Eliza apologised, a small smile on her face. "I was just excited."

"Oh?"

Eliza flashed a grin at Scorpius, her teeth gleaming with her eyes.

"I've translated the page," she informed him. Scorpius's mouth spread into a grin.

"What does it say?" he asked, but Eliza shook her head.

"Not until Al gets here," she reminded him. Scorpius groaned and Eliza shook her head amusedly. "He shouldn't be much longer. His detention is only supposed to last a couple of hours; but I heard that Newberry was running it today, and she's been on his case ever since we started hanging out." Eliza smiled bitterly. "God, I hate that woman." Scorpius snorted.

"I assure you, the feeling is mutual."

Eliza poked her tongue out childishly and Scorpius grinned.

"Are you going to sit there until Al comes?" he asked, now noticing that she had sat back down in the alcove, this time with her legs crossed. It looked cramped and uncomfortable and he asked Eliza as much.

"Oh, wildly uncomfortable," she assured him with a nod. "But my legs have kid of fallen asleep and I don't think I can actually get up again." Scorpius shook his head at her.

"Come on," he said extending a hand. Eliza grasped it and with a tug he managed to pull her from the alcove. Scorpius ignored the glare Eliza sent him as she clambered off the table, rubbing her bruised backside. "Aw," he teased. "Did wittle Eliza get a boo boo?" Scorpius had a wide grin across his face until he saw Eliza's smirk. "OW!" he cried out as Eliza's tiny fist connected with his shoulder; the same shoulder that had been injured when Dabih Eridanus, a chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team, had miss-timed his extremely powerful throw and had accidentally hit Scorpius. "That hurt!"

"Kind of the point," Eliza replied, settling herself down in one of the old fashioned chairs, her long legs resting on the chair next to her.

There was silence for a minute as Eliza took the original page from her pocket and smoothed it out on the table. Even thinking about those strange symbols made Scorpius's head hurt and he did wonder how Eliza could concentrate on the sweeping strokes and turn them into actual letters. He had watched her gaze at the symbols, a fresh piece of parchment on her left, ink gleaming as the symbols were translated onto the parchment, and been completely amazed at the ease with which she could turn symbols and pictures into words. Unfamiliar strokes on a page meant nothing to him, nor Al, and yet Eliza could see them as something completely different, without the use of magic.

"It's pretty easy when you're used to it," Eliza said with a smile. Scorpius looked up.

"How did you...?"

"You were speaking out loud." Scorpius nodded. He was silent for a moment then...

"I grew up around it."

"Pardon?" Scorpius asked.

"Languages, translating things," Eliza explained. "My dad's an archaeologist, and when we were little Alex and I used to go on digs with him around the world. I just kind of picked the languages up on the way. Dad speaks about twenty five fluently and he taught me how to translate hieroglyphs when I was seven."

"So are these hieroglyphs then?" Scorpius asked curiously. Eliza shook her head.

"No, this is written in Oracular," she said. "It's an ancient number system that hasn't been used in hundreds of years."

"So how do you know it?"

"Dad's an archaeologist. There was a dig, down in Soldeu, a couple of years ago. Dad found this alchemy lab there. It was filled with all sorts of scrolls. Most of it was ruined but in one of the walls, behind a hidden door was a collection of scrolls all of them written in Oracular!" A smile had lit up Eliza's face. "It was one of the greatest mathematical discoveries since Leibniz's work was found! It was my father who converted it into modern day numbers. It was part of his thesis back at UCL. For the next month all of our maths lessons were done in Oracular. Once you know the basics you can do the rest."

"I didn't know that you were good with numbers," Scorpius said in surprise.

"Oh, I'm not," Eliza stated. "Dreadful with them really. All I can do is turn symbols into numbers and letters. Anything more than the twelve times table and I get a headache. Any more questions?"

"Just the one," Scorpius said. "Where's Soldeu?"

"Andorra," Eliza laughed.

"Where's Andorra?"

Eliza's laugh echoed round the library, her head tossed back.

"What's so funny?"

"AL!" Scorpius and Eliza cried at the same time, looking up. Al looked at them suspiciously but he sat down, moving Eliza's feet off the other chair.

"So, have you got the translation?" Al asked. Eliza nodded eagerly.

"As I was telling Scorpius, it was written in Oracular. Now Oracular is an ancient number system. It hasn't been used in the muggle world for hundreds of years. But luckily, I'm the linguistically talented daughter of one of the world's best archaeologists and one of the few people alive who can actually translate it into normal numbers. Which I have now done."

"Then, the page is actually just filled with numbers?" Scorpius asked. Eliza nodded. "So we're no closer to knowing the truth?"

A groan escaped Al's lips and he looked down, disappointed. Frustration showed clearly on Scorpius's face but Eliza was smiling.

"Actually, we are," Eliza said. The boys looked up. "Each number stands for a letter of the alphabet. All I had to do was substitute the numbers for the letters." Her smirk spread to Al and Scorpius as Eliza took out a piece of parchment and pushed it towards her friends. "That, my friends, is the fully translated and decoded version of the page that Highclere had."

All of their smirks had spread into wide grins and Al and Scorpius leaned in to take a look at the sheaf of parchment that Eliza had pushed towards them.

"My heart lies with that which always runs, but never walks, often murmurs but never talks," Al read out. "In order to find it's hiding place you must find he who comes out at night without being fetched, but in the day is lost without being stolen." He looked up just to see Scorpius and Eliza's confusion. "Only the worthy will know to look half-way up the hill, for it is there that I see thee at last, lying beneath me with thy sounds and sights. A city in the twilight, dim and vast, with smoking roofs, soft bells and gleaming lights."

"What does that mean?" Scorpius asked. Eliza shrugged.

"I'm just as lost as you," she replied. "I spent an hour and a half trying to work it all out but got nowhere!"

There was silence around the table. All three of the first years looked at the parchment and sighed. They all leaned back into their chairs, exchanging a single look of disappointment, frustration and confusion. Each one of them was lost as to what to do now.

"This is just brilliant!" Scorpius groaned. "We're no closer to finding out what Highclere's doing!"

He let out another groan and tipped backwards on his chair so that only two legs were resting on the floor. Luckily his chair leaned back into the wall so he didn't tip over completely.

"Come on," Al sighed. "It's almost dinner."

Eliza stood up and Scorpius made to do the same; but because he was leaning back on his chair he had to use the wall to push himself back up.

A grinding noise appeared and the three first years jumped up, staring at the stones in the wall that Scorpius had been leaning against as they moved to one side. Scorpius turned to look at Al and Eliza, both of whom were staring at the wall in open amazement. Eliza cast a quick glance around the library, checking that no one was watching before hopping over the chair that separated Scorpius from the other two. She had slipped her wand out and the tip was glowing, casting a beam of light through the gap where the wall had been. The darkness that had been there was illuminated by the light and Scorpius could make out the silvery grey gleam of cobwebs in the doorway. He heard the quiet thud of footsteps behind him and knew instinctively that Al had joined them.

"Do you think we should go in?" Al asked cautiously. Eliza gave a single nod of her head.

"Definitely," she confirmed. "Imagine what could be in there!" Her eyes were gleaming.

"Scorp?" Al asked.

Scorpius bit his lip. He really wanted to see what was in there. He barely knew how he had managed to open it after all, but what if the door shut while they were in there? Eliza might be a whiz with charms but none of them knew enough to be able to blast open the door yet. And that was if the walls weren't enchanted as so many were in Hogwarts.

"What if we get trapped?" he said.

"We can use a chair to keep the exit open for us," Eliza suggested. "That way, even if the door starts to close we'll have enough room to get out."

"Nice idea," Al complimented her and she flushed slightly. "Let's go!"

Al led the way in, having copied Eliza's little spell, his wand outstretched and lighting up the room. Eliza followed, with Scorpius bringing up the rear. All three of them stared up in wonder at the beautifully decorated walls. They were a pale, faded blue and had images of birds in flight over a river immaculately drawn onto them in black and in a strange bronze coloured paint. Individual blades of grass had been painted green on the riverbank and wild flowers were dotted about the place. There was a broken desk in one corner and pieces of a chair in another. The room hadn't been cleaned in a long time and there was a thick layer of dust over just about everything. As they walked into the room they kicked up a great deal of dust which made Al sneeze and Eliza and Scorpius snigger.

"What is this place?" Eliza asked in wonder. She closed her eyes and her posture relaxed slightly. "It feels...wonderful." She turned to Al and Scorpius, a contented smile on her face, her eyes slightly glassy.

"I'm not sure about this place," Al said uneasily.

Scorpius could relate. There was a strange feel about the room, something that made his skin crawl. He exchanged a look with Al, who seemed just as ill at ease. Eliza was smiling beatifically, her wand lowered by her side, eyes closed blissfully.

"Can't you feel it? This place, it feels incredible! So calm and peaceful!"

Al was tense as he stared at Eliza's twirling movements. Scorpius was slightly more relaxed, but he was biting his lip in worry.

"Eliza, we need to leave," Al stated.

"No," Eliza replied smiling. "I like it here. I want to stay here."

"Eliza it's a ten by twelve room with a faded mural on the wall," Scorpius pointed out. "We need to leave!"

Eliza merely shook her head. Al exchanged a look with Scorpius that said everything that they needed to know. Scorpius headed to the right of Eliza while Al took the left. Each one of them grasped one of Eliza's arms and began tugging her towards the door. Eliza's eyes snapped open in a fierce glare directed at both boys. There was something strange about it though. Her clear, bright eyes were misty and clouded. Scorpius glanced urgently at Al who was staring at her eyes too.

"NO!" Eliza's shout sent electric shocks through the bodies of both boys making them jump back in horror. There was a grinding noise and Scorpius turned to see the door slowly but surely closing. A look of pure terror spread across Al's face as he noticed that the chair which had been placed there had somehow toppled backwards, out of the pathway of the closing door.

"We have to get out of here!" Scorpius cried, once again seizing Eliza's arm and dragging her towards the swiftly closing door. Al reached it first, his thin frame easily getting through the gap. Though Eliza was struggling furiously Scorpius managed to push her through. Now it was just him left to get back, but the gap was very small and he didn't know whether he would actually be able to get through. He carefully squeezed sideways into the gap, the bricks pushing against his back and lungs. It was difficult but a hand shot out, grasping his upper arm and sharply yanking him from the gap as the wall closed properly.

Scorpius tumbled to the ground along with the owner of the hand who had grabbed him. He rested there for a moment before he got up, groaning.

"You okay?" Al asked in concern. Scorpius nodded.

"Where's Eliza?" he demanded. Al nodded to the floor where Eliza was splayed out.

"She saved you," Al said quietly. "Something in her clicked and she realised that you were in danger, so she stopped whatever she was doing."

They bent down next to their friend who was stirring slightly.

"Did someone put vodka in my drink?" Eliza moaned, sitting up and rubbing her head. "I feel like a herd of elephants in heels trampled over my head. Wait, what am I doing on the floor?"

"Don't you remember?" Al asked curiously.

"Remember what?" Eliza queried frustratedly. "We were in that room behind the wall, and then I was here. I don't... I missed something didn't I?"

"You really don't remember?" Scorpius questioned, glancing at Al, who looked just as puzzled as he felt.

"No!" Eliza exclaimed. "For the love of God, someone tell what the hell went on before I have to beat it out of you!" Al and Scorpius both gulped. They knew that Eliza had no qualms whatsoever with injuring, or even maiming, either one of them. Alex Leytii had shown them the scars that he had from being scratched by his sister and neither boy looked forward to being clawed by their friend, particularly not as it would be humiliating to be beaten up by a girl, who was several months younger than the pair of them.

Once Eliza was sat up properly Al began to explain the things that she had missed in her short lapse of memory. Eliza looked dreadfully confused, something that she hadn't been since they looked at the Transfiguration equation and the limitations of Transfiguration in class.

"That, is completely insane," Eliza stated as Al finished.

"Little bit hypocritical," Scorpius pointed out. "But yes. Completely and utterly insane." Eliza was staring at the floor. "You okay?" Eliza shrugged.

"Right now, I would like to eat some food and then go to bed," she said quietly. Both Al and Scorpius nodded.

* * *

"_He's evil," the princess said flatly._

_She was stood by the window in her room, gazing out at the stars. Her beautiful face was hard as she looked down at the thatched roofs of the lower town. The princess was dressed to the nines, her hair brushed and pulled back in an elaborate up-do that made her head ache, blue powder to match her dress shimmered on her eyelids while dark kohl outlined her eyes. Berry juice stained the lips that she was biting, giving away her nervousness. Delicate bands of gold encircled her arms and blue silk slippers were on her feet. She was trembling slightly. An awful lot rested on the night's feast._

"_My lady," the blonde serving boy said warningly. "You should not speak ill of the King!"_

"_How do I speak ill of the King when I speak the truth?" the princess demanded, whirling around. "I speak ill, not of the King, but of my father!" She shook her head. "He will sit there tonight, talking with his mindless sycophants about the horrors that he has in store for all who disobey him! And they take pleasure in it! Doesn't it make you sick?"_

"_Of course it does," her serving boy and only friend told her gently. "But I cannot say anything lest I lose my job! And my head," he added as a second thought._

"_But that's what I mean! If someone can lose their head simply for having an opinion, then it's clear that something is wrong in this kingdom! He doesn't punish for crimes, he punishes for entertainment! And I have to sit there, watching!"_

"_It is your responsibility as princess."_

"_Surely my responsibility should lie with protecting my people! They are the ones who suffer from poverty and famine. They are the ones who have never hand enough, and yet they are hung, killed, no, murdered, every day for the crime of being hungry and doing something about it!" The princess had to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes. Her friend took a step forward but she waved him off. "This life...is not what I wanted. I do not want to be this person."_

"_It is not your fault, my lady," the serving boy said quietly. "None of us get to choose our lot in life. You were born a princess, and that is how you shall die. I was born a serving boy. That is how I shall die. Each of us has a path that we will walk. It is not up to us."_

_The princess nodded. Her friend was surprisingly wise, especially for someone who had not had the education that she'd had, though her father disapproved of her learning anything more than writing her own name, but she was glad that he was there for her. He was about the only person who was, after all._

"_Come," she ordered, holding her head high. "I have a feast to get through."_

_Her friend met her eyes. She looked into them closely. There had been many an occasion when people had complimented her eyes, rare and beautiful as they were. She preferred her friend's eyes though. They were soft and calm. Clear grey, like the winter sky. His eyes were soothing, and the princess felt safe with them watching her. Whenever he was around, his eyes locked onto her, she felt grounded, instead of floating, as she so often was._

"Johann!"

Eliza was sat straight up, her heart beating ridiculously fast, a sheen of cold sweat dripping from her forehead. Her head ached and she felt sick. The name that had escaped her lips was confusing her. She didn't know anyone called Johann, except for Johann Vermeer, and for that name to spill from her lips after one of her nightmares was completely beyond her. It had never happened before. Usually she woke, pure terror eating at her insides until she fully realised where she was and that it had just been a dream.

She pushed her covers aside and made her way into the bathroom, allowing the water to rain upon her head. It soaked through her tangled mane of hair and allowed her to lather the shampoo in properly.

Once Eliza was satisfied that she was clean she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. It didn't take long to dry herself off before she brushed and carefully plaited her still wet curls. Then she used a handy little spell that Alex had taught her to dry her hair as she didn't want it dripping on her robes.

Her Slytherin uniform was hanging up in her wardrobe and she slipped it on easily. Technically speaking her uniform wasn't strictly regulation, but Eliza had never been one to pay attention to rules. She wore striped green, black and grey tights and had bracelets encircling both of her wrists. The necklace that she never took off hung around her neck and her peacock feather earrings brushed her shoulders.

As she ascended the stairs to the great hall thoughts rushed around Eliza's mind. That dream, it had resonated with her somewhat. Previously she had been haunted by visions of people who looked strangely familiar, people with her own golden eyes and even the little scar on her upper lip from the time that she'd tried to eat a stapler when she was three, but never before had she seen those cool, grey eyes in her dreams. She had, however, seen them in the real world, outside of her dreams. They belonged to someone she knew. They belonged to Scorpius.

* * *

"You okay?" Al asked, glancing at Eliza. She nodded distractedly as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.

"Tired is all," she replied. "Didn't sleep well last night."

"Well, it's a pretty easy day today," Scorpius shrugged. "Charms, Transfig, Muggle Studies and then double Herbology."

Eliza let out a long groan, her head falling to the table.

"Transfiguration! Oh man!"

"Hey, you can't complain!" Al retorted. "At least you're good at Charms. I have to put up with that, and Herbology!" Eliza poked her tongue out at him before spooning some jam onto her porridge, ignoring the strange looks she was getting from her friends.

"Attention everyone!"

Silence had fallen in the room. Al, Scorpius and Eliza looked up at the head table where Professors Quidel, Grant and Aizimio were stood. Everyone's eyes were facing their head teacher and his two deputies. All three of them had stern expressions on their faces. The most surprising thing to Al was that the three of them stood there, Quidel slightly in front of the other two, and they looked exactly as he imagined he looked with Scorpius and Eliza sometimes.

"It is a shame that I am stood here in front of you all," Quidel began with a sigh. "But this morning, when Madame Whystan went to open up the library, she found that someone had... trashed it, so to speak. There is a great deal of damage to the books and furniture in there. We do not know who did it yet, but rest assured, we will find out. The library will be out of bounds until further notice and I ask you all now, if anyone has any information about who did this, then please tell us. You will be in less trouble if you do so."

Al, Scorpius and Eliza looked at each other, all of them thinking the same thing.

"Anyone entering the library without express permission from the headmaster, Professor Grant or myself will be punished!" Aizimio promised harshly.

"The person responsible for this will be found," Grant added, his deep brown eyes hard. "Believe me when I say this. Whoever thinks that they can get away with defiling this school will be punished. Severely."


	11. A Dangerous Thing

**I know, I know, please don't kill me! It has been nearly two months but I have been exceedingly busy. I've had rounders, rowing and end of years. My exams are finally over, and the summer holidays are almost here so you can expect much quicker updates from now on, I promise, I will finish this story, and I desperately hope that my two month lapse won't stop you all from enjoying my story.**

_It had been fifteen years, eight months, three weeks, five days, twenty two hours and fifty four minutes since she had been brought into this world. Now, all she wanted to do was be brought out of it._

_The scowling faces in front of her sent shivers down her spine. Normally when she was scared, frightened or nervous she would hold her head up, push her shoulders back and remember that she was a princess. But when her silk dress was tattered and torn, her legs were scratched and bleeding and her feet were spattered with mud, her hands in shackles and a group of angry rebels who were likely to slaughter when the time came, she found it difficult to pull that brave face and confidence to the surface._

"_Lock her up tight boys!" the leader of the rebels grunted. The princess didn't know a lot about rebels. Her father had taught her that they were dirty scoundrels, murders and criminals. The dirty part was right; seriously, they might be rebels but that didn't mean they couldn't wash once in a while. Really, she knew that they might not live in the best conditions, but they couldn't possibly be so bad that they caused their rebel inhabitants to smell like a drowned sewer rat that had slept in a pile of manure. _

_One of the rebels stepped forward, a nasty grin on his face. The princess gulped slightly. The man who had stepped forward was one of the biggest, muscular, bearded, dirty and quite frankly malodourous that she had ever had the displeasure to meet. Seriously, he reeked! His teeth were crooked and rotten, his breath could wilt flowers and there were bits of animal in his tangled beard._

_"Don't even think about it!" the princess warned, her golden eyes flashing furiously as he approached her. "I might be in chains but if you even think of laying one of your disgusting, filthy, scum of the earth hands on me I will rip your legs off and beat you with the bloody end!"_

"_Oh, look at his boys!" the rebel leader laughed. "We've got ourselves a feisty one!"_

"_Feisty is just one of the things that I am," the princess sneered._

"_I'm sure you're quite the minx," another of the men said, looking her up and down. A revolted lurch rocked her stomach._

"_If you end that sentence with the words 'in bed', I will be personally responsible for your lack of children!" the princess promised._

_There was an outburst of raucous laughter from the rebels. They were mocking her. Her! She was their princess! And they were MOCKING her! Anger flooded her body, a tingling sensation travelling through her, all the way to her fingertips. Her eyes flashed a brighter gold than her natural colour and less that a meter away a bush went up in furious golden flames!_

Eliza woke up with a start. Her dreams had been getting steadily more violent as the days went by and she had woken in the same frightened state four time in this week alone. She glanced at the calendar she had pinned to wall beside her bed and groaned as she realised that the date was circled in pink. Pink was her 'Oh-god-I-have-therapy-today' colour. She had never liked bright pink and she _hated _therapy. She flopped back into her too-soft bed, her dark curls spilling across her feather pillows, a groan escaping her lips.

Had she been back in Carmarthen she would have closed her eyes once again, pulled her duvet up and covered her face with a pillow. Unfortunately she was in an ancient four poster bed with green silk sheets in the underwater dungeons in a huge castle somewhere in Scotland and that meant that she had to get up and go to class. Luckily though, her therapy session coincided with Transfiguration, which meant that she didn't have to suffer through her worst lesson.

Eventually, after lying in bed for an age, Eliza threw the covers off and made her way to the bathroom, rubbing sleep out of her eyes as she went. Hot water always worked to wake her up. That and about a pint of coffee (obviously sweetened with a _lot _of sugar and cream).

After showering Eliza dressed and then began to pull her hair back in a twisty up-do. She slid several silver pins into her hair in order to keep it in place and then sat back to admire her work. As was usual with hair as long as hers, Eliza often had some difficulty in styling it. Back in Carmarthen she would simply pull her curls back into a ponytail or plait it; but now that she had the help of magic she could do a lot more with her hair. Her Grandmother would be proud that she had learned to how "grace and elegance works on a young woman". Grandmother had never been satisfied that she was getting enough female input in a house of just boys. Well, one boy and one man with the maturity of a child.

Once she had finished checking that her hair was perfect Eliza dabbed several drops of her favourite lemon scented perfume on her neck and wrists before standing up and making her way up to the common room with her sketchbook in hand.

Drawing had always been one of the few things that helped her to relax. Ever since she was a little girl the worlds that she had created on the pages of her sketchbooks had been her escape. Pencils had always felt comfortable in her hands, and her sketchbooks were filled with the sights that she'd seen on her vast travels. Once her family had gone back to Wales her pages had been covered in doodles of cold, wet countryside, rain storms and the dull scenes of a playground. At Hogwarts though, she had millions of fascinating things to draw. The Slytherin common room was one of her favourite places to draw, the lake being another. Alex, Leander, Zach and Walker also featured a lot in her work, and more recently so had Al and Scorpius.

Personally Eliza preferred to draw people, and her rendition of Scorpius dripping wet, covered in mud and shivering from the cold after Quidditch practice was one of her best if she did say so herself. Al was surprisingly good a model. He had a habit of poking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth while he poured over books, a piece of parchment in front of him and one quill in his other hand. Al claimed that the drawing of him working on his potion, bent over his cauldron plumes of smoke rising and flames flickering but Eliza had seen him gazing at the sketch copied from a picture that one of their fellow first years had taken of Al, Scorpius and Eliza laughing in the library on many an occasion. It was one of Eliza's favourites too.

Flopping gently into an armchair by the fire Eliza began flicking through her sketchbook (number 48 in a life-long series) until she reached the drawing that she had started the previous day. It was one of the Slytherin Quidditch team out practicing. Jemaah Sulli, the Ravenclaw girl who went round taking pictures of everything had given her a load of pictures and Eliza had taken to sketching out the people and images in them.

The pencil version of Scorpius was stretching out an arm to grab the grass or whatever it was called. Eliza's brow furrowed as the tip of her pencil cautiously sketched the wings of the small ball. Most of her work was done in normal graphite pencil, but Eliza was using coloured pencils for this one. The stands had already been coloured in perfectly and Eliza had just begun to carefully get the light on the players' robes right when the door to the boys dorms slammed shut. She looked up to see Al coming down the stairs.

"What's up?" Al grunted, sitting down next to Eliza.

"The sky, why?" Eliza asked, smirking. Al looked at her completely confused. "Really? No? Wow, sarcasm must be a muggle thing! What I meant to say was: nothing much, you?"

"Uurgh," Al answered.

"That great a night huh?"

"Scorpius accidentally woke me up at like three o'clock this morning," Al groaned. "He had to get up for Quidditch practice again. Anthony is insane I tell you!"

"I have heard Barbie complain loudly and obnoxiously on the insanity of that hulk of a boy," Eliza agreed thoughtfully. "Frequently."

"All the time," Al nodded. "I swear that he even moans about him in his sleep." Eliza snorted. "You think I'm joking! Trust me, it's ridiculous how hard Anthony is working them!"

"Oh I trust you," Eliza assured him. "What do you think of my sketch?"

She passed the sketchbook over to Al, looking at him expectantly. Al took the sketchbook from Eliza and grinned as he looked at it.

"This is brilliant," Al told her and Eliza found herself smiling. "You're really good at drawing!"

Eliza smiled. Her art was one of the few things that she was really proud of.

"Thanks," she said. "My therapist's latest brilliant idea is to let me "resolve my issues through the art of drawing". I mean, how stupid does he think I am?" Eliza shook her head angrily. "It's like he thinks that any of this is actually helping!"

"It is isn't it?" Al asked. Eliza shrugged.

"Maybe. Maybe not. All I seem to do in my sessions is sit there in silence while he talks about how I can open up and reveal my darkest secrets to him."

"Darkest secrets?"

"Carmarthen is full of surprises," she replied slightly uncomfortably. "But my point is, we never do anything. All of his ideas are stupid, why on earth would he think that Korean meditation would help? As for the hypnotism... well! Wouldn't it be easier just to talk?" Eliza sighed. She really was tired of all the therapy sessions and her therapist.

Healer Karl Aaronsbeck had been fully trained in wizarding and muggle medicine for nearly twenty years before he had decided to go full time as a specialist in mental illness and muggle mental illness in particular. He was an expert in all medical fields and had been assigned to Eliza's case the moment that Quidel had informed St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries that one of his students had been self-medicating for a mental illness.

Deep down, Eliza knew that Aaronsbeck was one of the few people in the magical world who would actually be able to help her with her problem but she was so sick of all the "modern therapies" that he was making her go through that she didn't really care that much.

Truthfully, she knew that she was quite possibly the most irritating patient that Aaronsbeck had ever had the misfortune to treat. She knew that she had a boatload of annoying habits, much like the other patients that Aaronsbeck treated, but she never aired them in front of him. On several occasions Eliza had heard him comment on the fact that she was far too clever, sharp-witted and stubborn for her own good. It was nice to be known like that. Eliza knew herself that she had a tongue like a razor, and if she wasn't careful she would end up cutting herself; to be frank, someone else was far more likely to be on the receiving end.

Most of the people that Aaronsbeck saw were desperate to unload their problems onto someone else. Apparently having someone just listen to them lifted a huge weight off of their shoulders. Eliza was sure that after one or two sessions of Thai meditation they opened up and Aaronsbeck would have their complete confidence. She wasn't like them though. Despite only being eleven she was more determined to keep her secrets just that than most adults. Whenever she arrived at Aaronsbeck's office, the headmaster accompanying her, she merely sat in her armchair, her lips sealed. No matter how many prompts Aaronsbeck gave her, Eliza only ever answered direct questions with a smirk on her face all the while. She was fairly certain that Aaronsbeck was nearing the end of his tether with her.

She knew that it wasn't unheard of for things like bipolar disorder and other mental illnesses to appear in children as young as she was; but it was particularly unusual. According to Alex and Scorpius mental illnesses in witches and wizards were exceedingly rare and it usually occurred in those who came from inbred backgrounds. Purebloods for old wizarding families mostly. It hadn't been much of a surprise for Aaronsbeck when Eliza came in with her Slytherin tie and robes. Learning that she was a muggle-born had shocked him though. Eliza had enjoyed the expression on his face. It was very amusing.

Whenever she arrived for her sessions Aaronsbeck would stand, gesture towards the sofa in the corner, shake hands with Professor Quidel and then watch as the Hogwarts headmaster left the room before sitting down in his armchair and gazing rather unsettlingly at Eliza.

That was the exact position the two of them were in at eleven o'clock that day. Eliza was disinterestedly reading a poster on the effects of aromatherapy while Aaronsbeck watched her.

"Are you actually going to do anything?" she sighed eventually, her head beginning to pound.

"No, why?" Aaronsbeck asked.

"Well, every time I come here you try out a different method in an attempt to get me to open up," Eliza shrugged. "It seems...unlikely that you would break the habit."

"Maybe I am trying a new technique," Aaronsbeck replied. Understanding dawned upon Eliza. Her therapist was trying the "talk and reveal things just to break the uncomfortable silence" method. It was a novel technique, especially for Aaronsbeck. He usually went for the really rather ridiculous techniques that would only work on a brain damaged monkey.

Silence reigned for several long and seriously uncomfortable moments. Eliza wasn't particularly bothered about it; she was used to it. At home she attempted to maintain either a bitter silence, or argue constantly. It generally worked and so she was perfectly comfortable sitting in complete silence until the end of their fifty minute session. Aaronsbeck, it seemed, was not quite as at ease as his young client. His fists were clenched slightly and Eliza could see his knuckles turning white. She noticed just how tense his shoulders were and a small smirk spread across Eliza's face. After all the crappy therapies and the annoyance that he had put her through, she was rather enjoying his discomfort.

"Alright!" Aaronsbeck cried after nearly half an hour of complete silence. Eliza turned to look at him; her self-satisfied smirk stretching smugly across her face. "This isn't working!"

"I know," Eliza confirmed, her eyes glittering with amusement. "But it was your idea. And I'm not paying for these sessions." She paused for a moment. "In fact, I'm not entirely sure who is paying for these; for all I know some four year old Austrian estate agent could be paying for them! But the point still stands. This is not my problem. I have made my feelings perfectly clear on the matter of my therapy."

"Oh I know," Aaronsbeck nodded. "I have heard you complaining very vocally, and very often."

Eliza shrugged.

"What do you suggest we do?"

"Talk maybe," Aaronsbeck offered up. "And I don't mean about your...issues," he added quickly. "It doesn't have to personal per say; but we could at least get to know each other."

"Alright," Eliza conceded. "But I get to ask first!"

"Okay. Go."

"Are you married?"

"Yes," Aaronsbeck answered. "What is your favourite colour?"

"Seriously?" Aaronsbeck challenged her with a look and Eliza rolled her eyes. "Blue, dark blue," she sighed. "Or turquoise."

They continued in the same manner for around ten more minutes. Eliza learned that Aaronsbeck's favourite food was Pizza Chena, his twenty eight year old daughter had run off with a Polish man and that if he could go anywhere in the world he would go to Nepal to look at lemurs. In return Eliza revealed that her favourite sport was swimming, she enjoyed drawing more than anything else and that given a choice she would like a monkey or tiger (preferably sabre-toothed) as a pet.

Eventually their session was up and Professor Quidel reappeared in the fireplace. Eliza waved goodbye to Aaronsbeck and stepped into the emerald flames with her head teacher. When she arrived back in Quidel's office she fell to her knees. Eliza hated travelling by floo. It made her dizzy and sick and it always left her with ash in her hair. Quidel would always enquire about how the session had gone one he helped her up and Eliza would usually reply with a witty, sarcastic comment; not usually biting, as she quite liked Quidel.

"How was it?" Al asked as Eliza flopped into the seat next to him in the Great Hall.

"Same as usual," Eliza shrugged. "Aaronsbeck is the one who needs therapy if you ask me!" Al snorted and Eliza felt a smile tugging at her face as Al passed her a dish of potatoes. "Where's Scorp?"

"Hiding from his Quidditch captain," Al sniggered. "Anthony wants him to do another practice tonight but he's been out every night this week. They'd better bloody beat Gryffindor or Anthony'll have them at it twenty four hours a day until they win!" Eliza grimaced. "I know. It'll be hell. What are you smirking at?"

An idea had struck Eliza and as it fleshed out in her mind a smirk spread across her face. She knew that Al knew what smirk it was.

"Well, we want Slytherin to win, yes?"

"Obviously."

"And we are Slytherins, the house famous for its... foreplay, yes?"

"_Yes," _Al said slowly. Realisation slowly dawning on his face.

"What do you say to the pair of us doing a little... Sabotage?"

"Oh, Eliza Leytii," Al grinned. "You are brilliant!" Eliza grinned back.

"That is the prevailing opinion," she smirked. "And I don't think that you've ever snuck into Hogsmeade before have you?" Al shook his head, liking where this was going. "So what do you say to playing hooky this afternoon?" A frown spread across Al's face. "It means skipping class to go shopping," Eliza explained. "And by shopping, I actually mean stocking up on supplies for our little game of sabotage!"

"I like your style Leytii," Al was smirking. "This afternoon will be the best afternoon so far this year. Shame we have to miss Potions though."

"Who cares about Potions?"

"Our goody two shoes friend Al does," Scorpius sighed, flopping into the seat next to Eliza. "And what's this about sabotage?"

"We've decided to sabotage the Gryffindors in a little, pre-Quidditch friendly foreplay," Al explained with a grin. "So we're going to skip this afternoon's lessons and go into Hogsmeade to find a few things we need. You in?"

"I'll do anything to get out of Potions, you know that!" Scorpius said seriously. "So when are we leaving?"

"As soon as we're done eating," Eliza replied. "Al, have you got the invisibility cloak with you?" Al nodded. Several weeks after they had officially become friends Al and Scorpius had told Eliza about the invisibility cloak. They had been slouching on the sofas in Al and Scorpius' dorm, attempting to do their homework though Eliza had actually just been doodling on the edge of her parchment, when Eliza had made a sarcastic comment, causing Scorpius to toss his quill at her, though his aim was dreadful and it had missed her by miles. Eliza had ducked under Al's bed to find it, but had instead had found a cloak made of a strange smooth silvery material. Al and Scorpius had explained it slightly hesitantly, but Eliza had only shrugged, stuffed it back under Al's bed and continued on with her homework.

The three first years ate quickly and then slipped out of the hall. Eliza led them up two flights of stairs and through a maze of corridors until she reached an almost empty corridor. Al and Scorpius gazed at her as she stopped in front of a truly heinous statue. According to the plaque at the bottom it was of Gunhilda of Gorsemoor. Now Eliza had _no _idea who this woman was, or if she was even a woman, but she did know that if she tapped the hump of the statue with her wand and whispered "_dissendium" _then she would get into the secret passageway that led her to the cellar of Honeydukes Sweet Shop.

"Come on in," Eliza grinned. She placed one foot on the base of the statue and clambered in. Eventually she would have to use a different passage out of Hogwarts, the entrance to this one was rather small, and in a few years she knew her hips and her... other areas would be too big to fit through. Al and Scorp, the skinny twigs that they were, would always be able to fit though.

Eliza slid a considerable way down what felt like a stone slide, then landed on cold, damp earth. She stood up, looking around. It was pitch black so she held up her wand, muttered, "Lumos!" and lit up the very narrow, low, earthy passageway.

Both Scorpius and Al followed her down the slide and into the passageway, both of them marvelling at the sight of the tunnel. Eliza found their astonishment to be rather amusing and grinned wickedly at them before setting off down the tunnel, Al and Scorpius's hearts beating fast, excitement and apprehension swirling around their minds.

The passage twisted and turned, more like the burrow of a giant rabbit than anything else. Even the catacombs of Sacromonte, in Granada had been far more easily managed. Eliza, Al and Scorpius hurried along it, stumbling now and then on the uneven floor, each of them holding their wands out in front of them. The journey took forever, but the three first years were bristling with excitement and anticipation of what was to come.

After what felt like an age, the passage began to rise. The three first years sped up, their faces hot and their feet very cold.

Ten minutes later, they came to the foot of some seriously worn stone steps, which rose out of sight about them. Eliza gestured for her friends to be silent, and then, careful not to make any noise, began to climb.

A hundred steps, two hundred steps, Eliza lost count as she climbed, watching her feet... Then, without warning, her head hit something hard. She glared at a snickering Scorpius as she stood there, massaging the top of her head, listening. She couldn't hear any sounds above her. Very slowly, she pushed the trapdoor open and peered over the edge.

She was in the cellar of Honeydukes, which was full of wooden crates and boxes. Eliza clambered out of the trapdoor as gracefully as possible, which admittedly wasn't at all graceful, and then gave both Scorpius and Al a hand up before replacing the trapdoor - it blended so perfectly with the dusty floor that it was impossible to tell it was there. Eliza beckoned to her friends before creeping slowly towards the wooden staircase that led upstairs. Now she could definitely hear voices, not to mention the tinkle of a bell and the opening and shutting of a door.

Quickly and silently, Eliza gestured for Al to throw the invisibility cloak over the three of them, before they dodged out from their place crouching at the foot of the stairs and then proceeded to climb them. They reached the door at the top of the stairs, slipped sideways through it, and found themselves behind the counter of Honeydukes. The trio ducked, crept sideways, and then straightened up.

Honeydukes was the most amazing thing Al had ever seen, except perhaps Hogwarts. There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-coloured toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavour Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizbees, the levitating sherbet balls that James loved; along yet another wall were "Special Effects" - sweets: Droobles Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-coloured bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Pepper Imps ("breathe fire for your friends!"), Ice Mice ("hear your teeth chatter and squeak!"), peppermint creams shaped like toads ("hop realistically in the stomach!"), fragile sugar-spun quills, and exploding bonbons.

"Oh wow!" he breathed. Scorpius was in a similar state, gazing at the display of sugar quills as if his life depended on it. Eliza simply grinned. She had been to Honeydukes many times before. Of course she didn't usually buy anything. She hated using magical money, it was entirely frustrating, and she had absolutely no idea how it worked. On occasion she had come with Alex though, and he usually treated her to an enormous slab of Honeyduke's finest chocolate, or an entire box of lime kisses, which were by far, Eliza's favourite sweet.

"Can I come and live here?" Scorpius asked in amazement.

"No, your teeth will all fall out," Eliza sighed, shaking her head. "Come on, Weasleys Wizard Wheezes is just down the road."

They exited the sweet shop and Al pulled off the invisibility cloak in one swift move before stowing it away in his robes. Eliza turned left and the trio began to walk that way up the street. They passed an elderly lady who had just exited a hairdresser's called Curl Up and Dye, which was what Eliza wished her pounding headache would do. On their way up the street they passed a magical repair shop called Dervish & Bangs, Dogweed and Deathcap (an apothcary), Dominic Maestro's music shop (that was one Eliza would have to visit again at some point), the Hogsmeade Post Office, Spintwitches (a sporting shop), Tomes and Scrolls (Eliza's favourite bookshop) and Gladrags Wizardwear (a shop that Eliza had set foot in just the once before and one that she hoped she would never have to again). At the end of the street was a bright orange shop.

"Weasleys Wizard Wheezes," Eliza said, stopping in front of the windows.

Set against the rather dull, poster-muffled shop fronts around them, Weasleys Wizard Wheezes hit the eye like a firework display. Casual passers-by were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people (clearly not locals) had actually come to a halt, transfixed. Eliza could understand why. The first time Alex had brought her to this shop her eyes had practically dropped out, her mouth falling open. Both of the windows were dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked; Eliza's eyes and mouth began to water just looking at them.

It was Eliza who led the way into the shop, a bright grin on her pretty face. As it was a weekday, and most of the Hogsmeade customers were Hogwarts students, it wasn't packed with customers as it usually would be but there were still several people milling about near to the shelves.

The first years stared around, looking up at the boxes piled to the ceiling. There were Skiving Snackboxes, something that Eliza liked particularly. Nosebleed Nougat was the most popular and Eliza's personal favourite. It meant that she didn't have to have the revolting taste of vomit in her mouth, though if she were Scorpius she would anyway. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of boxers when waves, the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and next, and boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties. Eliza needed no help from the last sort. By the counter several young children were watching in awe as a tiny little wooden man slowly ascended the steps to reveal a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: Reusable Hangman - spell it or he'll swing!

Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which Eliza had seen many clusters of excited girls giggling enthusiastically. She had never been one of those girls; it wasn't that she was a tomboy, she loved clothes and jewellery and pretty things, but it had been beaten (metaphorically of course) into her from a young age that the colour pink was _not, under any circumstances _allowed to take over the house. Several of her items of clothing were pink but they were nothing like the huge collection of love potions on display. _Seriously_, Eliza thought, _why the hell would anyone need over two hundred love potions? _Some of them had, admittedly, rather amusing names. There were Calamity Lotions, Crush Blush, Cupid Crystals, First Love Beguiling Bubbles and Heartbreak Teardrops. Next to pink and white striped boxes of Flirting Fancies were Patented Daydream Charms, virtually undetectable, highly realistic thirty-minute daydreams (side-effects can be: slight drooling and a dazed expression. Not for sale for wizards under 16). The magic really was quite extraordinary but Eliza knew she wouldn't be getting her hands on it for some years.

There was a display on muggle magic tricks, but Eliza had seen enough of those in her time and besides, her gaze was immediately focused on the fireworks display. She had never seen so many incredible and strange things before in her life. Boxes of Bang Bang Boggart Bangers were next to Crystal Incantation Comets and Silver Sparkling Snakes. Candy pink Feathery Flamingo Flame Fuzzer's were stacked next to a collection of Voodoo Fountains and Loonar Loop Luminators. Basic Blaze Boxes were next to Fred-N-Georges' Pyrotechnics Compendium and Deflagration Deluxe. Tens of Diabolic Dare Devils, Demon Dun Crackers and Exploding Whizz Poppers. Dragon Fires, Rocket Boxes, Peace Disturbers, Spectrum Splashers, Thestral Thrashers and Thor's Thundercrackers were all glittering and gleaming with bright colours and flashing images.

The rest of the displays were arranged by alphabet. The Anti Gravity Hats were next to boxes of Aviatomobiles and Boxing telescopes. Bubble machines were in between Broom Broom kits and Comb-a-Chameleons. Eliza sniggered at the flashing images on the box of Creepy Crawlies, and raised her eyebrows at the Fanged Frisbees. Both she and Scorpius blanched at the wriggling flesh coloured pieces of string though they both thought that they would be useful. There was a stack of boxes containing dolls of a short, squat woman dressed entirely in pink. Eliza thought that she might throw up at the sight of the toad-like woman in her truly heinous cardigan and dress. She frowned at the Magical Moustache Miracle Stubble Grow, and the Out to Lunch Fake Moustache, but the Sticky Trainers and Sunny spells looked pretty cool and Eliza's eyes gleamed at the Weather in a bottle. Scorpius was staring at a clear jar of Shimmering Silver Salt Drops, the exact same colour as his eyes.

"Right then boys, get shopping, this one's on either of you!"

"Us!" Al said, outraged.

"Well I can't pay for it, can I?" Eliza said. "Firstly, I'm not loaded like either of you, and secondly, I don't exactly have any magical money, only the muggle kind. Besides, I don't actually understand _how _magical money works, so even if I did have any money you would have to make the transaction."

Al opened his mouth to object but Scorpius just shook his head.

"Don't bother mate," he sighed. "All you'll get is a headache and you'll still have to pay for everything."

"Me?"

"Yeah, well," Scorpius shrugged. "Your Uncle owns this place. Don't you get a family discount or something?"

"Unbelievable," Al muttered, glancing at his grinning friends. "Absolutely unbelievable!" He looked at their wide grins and attempts to smother their laughter and found himself laughing with them. "Come on, you idiots!"

For the next forty five minutes Al, Scorpius and Eliza grabbed boxes and boxes of joke shop goods, their eyes gleaming with thoughts and ideas. By the time they were done each of them had over twenty, or in Eliza's case thirty but this was only because she had recruited several small children to carry the products for her, boxes in their arms. The young witch at the counter, dressed in magenta robes that clashed terribly with her _blue, yes blue _hair, looked at them, utterly astonished as they piled the boxes high upon the counter.

"Oh, and we would like a bag," Eliza said with a smile. The witch just looked at her as Al and Scorpius sniggered.

When the witch, whose name badge read: Sky, had rung up all their purchases on a till, and Al had dived into the moneybag that had had brought with him, the trio exited the shop and headed back down the street.

"Fancy a butterbeer?" Scorpius asked as they drew close to the Three Broomsticks. "And yes, it's on me!"

"In that case, I'll have three," Al said, heading for the door, Scorpius and Eliza following him.

They entered the pub, which, even though it was just coming up to three o'clock, was packed with patrons. Eliza gestured to a table in the corner and the three made their way there, dodging the other people and tables that were squashed into the cramped room. Scorpius stood by the table while Al sat down in one of the ancient wooden chairs and Eliza squeezed herself onto the bench opposite.

"Three butterbeers then?" Scorpius asked. Eliza shook her head.

"I'll have a Gillywater thanks, can't stand butterbeer!" Both of her friends gaped at her, but Eliza just smiled and shook her head. "Trust me, giving me a butterbeer will end in disaster and tears." Al blanched at that.

"Get her a Gillywater," he ordered Scorpius quickly. Scorpius nodded and made his way over to the bar.

"Two butterbeers and a Gillywater please," he said to the young woman serving behind the bar. She looked him up and down, her bland brown eyes cold and her overly large mouth curling into a sneer.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" she asked in a nasal tone.

"Shouldn't you be doing your job?" Scorpius retorted. "Two butterbeers and a Gillywater, _please!" _

The woman huffed and reached under the bar for several bottles. She slammed three glasses down and poured the drinks into each glass before pushing them towards Scorpius ungraciously. Scorpius simply stood there.

"What?" the barmaid asked brusquely.

"You know, I had no idea that the human body now had _three _arms with which to hold drinks," he said innocently, using Eliza's famous technique of holding his head up, glaring daggers, curling her upper lip and speaking in a bored, drawling and haughty tone. The barmaid glared at him and slammed a tray down next to the drinks. Scorpius made a face as she turned around before placing the drinks on the tray and making his way back to the table.

"Having some trouble with the staff?" Eliza asked as Scorpius slid next to her. He poked his tongue out at his friend but grinned.

Once they had grabbed their drinks the three first years began to drink them, and talk. By the time that they were done they had each consumed several glasses of their chosen poison, and were walking slowly back to Honeydukes. They pulled the invisibility cloak over their head and followed a small boy into the sweet shop and then down to the cellar, through the trapdoor and the tunnel.

They reached Hogwarts around six, and kept the cloak on until they reached the corridor that led to the Slytherin common room when Al pulled it off with a flourish. Eliza gave the password and they entered, unseen by all, the chattering of the Slytherins masking the terrified dream of one girl.

The morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and bacon and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

Eliza and Al sat opposite Scorpius, who seemed paler than normal, if that was at all possible. The rest of the Slytherin team, most of them huge, strapping young men that towered over the first years. Al and Eliza gazed at the two hulking beaters as they shovelled food into their mouths. The captain of the team, Marcus Anthony, was quite easily the biggest there, but it was _all _muscle. Eliza, who often complained about how skinny both Al and Scorpius were, felt tiny in comparison to him. Seriously, his shoulders were nearly as broad as Eliza's legs were long, and her legs were quite long. He looked as if he could smash rocks with those thighs.

Just then, the mail arrived. Eliza hated owl post. Why the hell couldn't people just use e-mail? Honestly, the first time they had arrived she had nearly gone into shut down. Hundreds of owls suddenly streaming into the Great Hall while she was trying to eat her breakfast! Well, it would give anyone a fright. The owls streamed in, circling the tables until the saw their owners, dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Her father never wrote to Eliza. He was fully aware that she would more than likely rip it up, burn it or use it as a hat. Maybe even all three; though not necessarily in that order. Eliza was also fully aware that her father was writing to her brother, checking up on her and making sure that she didn't get into _too _much trouble. She appreciated the gesture. While she might not be on civil speaking terms with her father, she was, after all, still quite angry at him, it was nice to know that he still cared about her, even though she'd put him through quite the ordeal in the past few years. Several months ago, the knowledge that he was checking up on her regularly would have only made her more angry. Now though, well, now that she had friends, people who cared for her, and people whom she had come to care for, she was just tired of the feud between father and daughter.

"Ow!" Al cried out as a letter dropped on his head. He rubbed the spot where it had hit him and then picked the letter up, frowning. "It's for you Eliza," he said in surprise.

Eliza frowned as she took the letter from Al. Her blood froze as she saw the writing on the front. It was almost exactly the same as her brothers but more refined and elegant. The neat, flowing script on the front of the envelope belonged to her father.

Hands shaking slightly, Eliza slit the envelope open with a knife and pulled out the letter inside. It was written on normal, muggle paper, which only served to make a wave of homesickness wash over her. Her father had taken the time to handwrite the letter, making Eliza feel even worse. The paper smelled of rain and cinnamon and chocolate and cologne. Tears began to prick in Eliza's eyes. Her whole body was trembling as she unfolded the letter and began to read.

_My dearest Eliza,_

_I know my writing this may not be welcome, as I am sure you are still (rightfully) angry at me, but I felt that this needed to be said. I will respect your decision, whatever it may be, but I ask only one thing of you. Please, please, consider this carefully._

_You may still be angry at me, and wish for me to leave you be, but the winter holidays are soon approaching and Alex tells me that Hogwarts asks its students to inform them as to whether they wish to stay at school for the holidays relatively soon._

_It does not take a genius to work out that you would probably prefer to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, but I have recently received a message from your Grandparents stating that they would love to see you during the holidays as it has been a while and your grandmother has not yet found a shopping partner capable of her standards._

_The terms that we parted on were not good, but Eliza, I do still love you and though you may not believe it, I have always, and will always, have your best interests at heart._

_Though you may not wish to see me during the holidays, or ever again, I know how stubborn you can be Pulchra, I know that you still love your grandparents and our feud should not be a reason for you not to see them. So I ask that we put our quarrel behind us, just for the holidays so that your grandparents, Alex, and most importantly, you, Eliza, can enjoy Hanukah and the holidays for the first time in a very long time._

_Please, my darling, this dispute has gone on long enough. Consider what I have said carefully._

_All my love,_

_Dad_

Tears had somehow traced their way down her cheeks and Eliza hastily wiped them away, before sticking the letter back in the envelope.

"Are you alright?" Scorpius asked, concerned.

"Fine," Eliza shrugged it off brusquely. "Come on, the match begins soon."

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. As Eliza was well aware, the seats, though they were raised high in the air, did not always give the best vantage point and it was difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Al and Eliza joined the rest of the Slytherin first years in the front row. Every now and again Al would glance worriedly at Eliza, as if she were about to jump over the edge of the stands for some reason. Eliza was nervously tapping her nails against the seats, a bad habit of hers. Her eyes darted this way and that, her dark curls blowing slightly in the breeze. Though Eliza, Al and Scorpius had had some rather excellent fun with their pre-Quidditch match foreplay, everyone in Slytherin was still slightly nervous. No matter how long the Gryffindor team spent in the loos as a result of the U-No-Poo that Eliza had ground up in their food, or how long it took them to get the biting teacups from their noses, or even how haggard the entire house had looked after Al, Scorpius and Eliza had set off a load of fireworks in their common room, the Gryffindor team were still formidable. And the new Slytherin team, equipped with Scorpius as seeker, were completely untested. Nothing was certain, and the Slytherins were desperate for an early victory over the Slytherins.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Scorpius and the rest of the team were changing into their emerald green Quidditch robes (Gryffindor would be playing in Scarlet).

Anthony cleared his throat for silence.

"Alright, men," he said firmly.

"And women!" interjected the tall, brunette keeper Marianna Higgs.

"Alright, and women," Anthony sighed. "We have to win this. This is the one! If we don't smash those cowering lions then we're pathetic! So I expect all of you to go out there, and work those stupid, arrogant Gryffindors _in to the ground! _Do you understand!" By this point he was yelling and everyone else looked slightly frightened of him. They all nodded quickly, the fear of Anthony smashing them into a pulp much greater than the thought of the opposition.

Scorpius was the last one out of the locker room, after Marianna Higgs. He walked out onto the field to loud cheers, desperately hoping that his knees weren't going to give way. Glancing up at the Slytherin section of the crowd he spotted Al and Eliza in the front row. Al was looking excited but Eliza was agitated. He had expected her to be bored, as she normally was by Quidditch and large crowds but instead she seemed distressed.

"Malfoy!" Anthony hissed. "Get over here and stop mooning over gold-eyes up there! Game first, friends later! Got it!" Scorpius nodded and made his way over to join his team.

Madame Euphorie was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand. Her eyes were hard as she looked at Scorpius who was determinedly avoiding her gaze.

"Now, I want a nice, clean game, from _all _of you!" she said, once they were all gathered around her. Scorpius noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to Anthony, and the Gryffindor Captain, Benjamin Entwhistle, a massive sixth year. He was certainly more of a Quidditch player than his younger brother Calvin, who was in Scorpius's year. Entwhistle had a massive dent in the side of his head and Scorpius just couldn't take his eyes off of it.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Scorpius clambered onto his Firebolt5.

Madame Euphorie gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off. "And the Quaffle is taken immediately by the rather lovely Katie Rayknolls- oh no, wait! That's David Makehay! Ah, who can tell, they both look like trolls-"

"LEANDER!"

"Sorry Professor!"

Darren Leander, Alex Leytii's best friend and partner in crime, was doing the commentary for the match. According to Eliza, Alex and his friends shared the commentary responsibilities, though Alex and Leander could only do it when Ravenclaw weren't playing. The four boys were closely watched by all four heads of house, and this time, even the headmaster.

"And he's really belting along up there, a nice pass to the _actual _Katie Rayknolls, a surprisingly good find of Anthony's, last year only an overweight walrus- sorry professors- passes back to Makehay and no, - oh crap, there's that annoying brat James Potter with the Quaffle - ooh, that had to hurt! Whatever you want to say about Marcus Anthony, he knows how to hit a bludger! If Potter had any brain cells he probably would have lost a few! It's Slytherin with the Quaffle, Dan Darker flying like an eagle up there- a nice swerve around Kylie Cuoco, not nearly as pretty as Kaley Cuoco, she can work those geeks - sorry, back to the game - it's Makehay with the Quaffle - no! Roxanne Weasley, one lovely lady, with the Quaffle - she's going to sc- no, stopped by one fantabulous move by Slytherin Keeper Marianna Higgs, if you've got time later Marianna, I'd be more than happy to help you work out- OW! For the love of Freddie Alex! Did you have to hit me so hard! Back to the game and it's Darker speeding off towards the goal posts, and the Gryffindor Beaters have to work on their aim, I would mention their names but I don't actually know or care - and Rayknolls is in possession of the Quaffle - she's really flying now - dodges a speeding Bludger - passes to Makehay who passes to Darker - it's back to Rayknolls and the goal posts are ahead - I shouldn't really be cheering for Slytherin but Alex's little sister will murder me if I don't, now that is one scary wo- SLYTHERIN SCORES!"

Slytherin cheers filled the cold air, the Gryffindors howling and moaning in disappointment. Al and Eliza were clapping and cheering along with everybody else, though Eliza's were more half-hearted, she hadn't even reacted to Leander's comment about her.

"Eliza," Al said. "Are you okay?"

He looked at his friend in concern. Eliza shook her head, biting her lip. Al glanced back at the game. Way above them, Scorpius was gliding over the game, squinting about fore some sign of the Snitch. Al knew that this was Anthony's game plan.

"Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," he had said. "We don't want you getting attacked before you have to be."

When Katie had scored Al had seen Scorpius do a couple of loop-the-loops to let out his excitement and enjoyment. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Al bit his lip before standing up and pulling Eliza up with him.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go somewhere private."

Eliza stumbled after Al as he pulled her down the wooden stairs inside the stands. Halfway down they stopped and Eliza sat down on the steps her head falling immediately into her hands. Al sat next to her and looked at her. He nudged her.

"Hey, I'm missing Quidditch for this, so tell me what's wrong," he said softly. Eliza looked up, tears staining her cheeks, a small smile on her face.

"That letter this morning," she told him quietly. "It was from my dad."

Understanding dawned on Al.

"Ah."

"He wants me to come home for the holidays, and I just," Eliza sighed. "I don't know what to do. I'm tired of fighting, but I don't know if I'm ready to forgive him yet. If I do then the past two years will seem petty and stupid and it will all have been for nothing!" Al sighed and looked at Eliza with sympathetic eyes.

"Isn't it petty and stupid anyway?" he asked gently. "You were angry at him for not telling you about your magic, but he only did it because he was trying to protect you. You could stay angry for another few months, but it would be just as easy to put it behind you and try to get on with him."

"Why do you always have to be so wise?" Eliza groaned. Al chuckled.

"Because I'm me," he winked. Eliza was silent. And then...

"It's a dangerous thing to live in the past. I'm just not sure I'm ready for the future."

* * *

**Well, that was it, chapter eleven. I hope you all enjoyed it. Here to make up for my seriously slow update is a sneak peak at what's coming up in the next chapter:**

Christmas is approaching and while Scorpius can't wait for a great Christmas filled with treats and presents and sweets, Al is still deliberating about whether to go home or not and Eliza is terrified of forgiving her father and leaving behind the past. Al decides to use this opportunity to find out more about the riddles on the scrolls and the strange and mysterious Professor Highclere but he may be in for a big surprise. Scorpius uncovers a deep, dark secret while Eliza is conflicted over asking her father for help.


	12. Nothing Less Than Perfect

**I know, I'm sorry. I promised that I would update more quickly this time, and I did cut it down by half, plus this is my longest chapter, over ten thousand words, but it has been nearly a month, and for that I'm sorry.**

Excitement was thick in the air. Ever since the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Quidditch match, which Slytherin won three hundred and ninety to one hundred and eighty, the Slytherins had been in high spirits. This had only heightened as Christmas was coming. One morning in early December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The already cold lake froze solid and "King" (the name that Alex Leytii, Darren Leander, Brian Walker and Zach McAroy had given themselves, apparently based on Leander's favourite muggle band) were punished for bewitching mistletoe to follow people around screaming at them to kiss. The very next day, Al, Scorpius and Eliza had joined them ice skating on the lake before making igloos and snowmen. Sadly it was actually a Thursday and they'd been skipping class in full view of the teachers. The few owls that had managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. Only Eliza didn't seem excited by the prospect of the best time of the year.

"But why?" Al persisted as Eliza replaced a book on a shelf in the library.

"Al," Eliza said, amused. "I'm Jewish. I don't celebrate Christmas."

"How can you not celebrate _Christmas?" _Scorpius asked, absolutely aghast. Eliza giggled slightly.

"Because we have Hanukah instead," she smiled. "It's sort of like Christmas, only it lasts for eight days. And no, we don't get massive presents every day. We only get little ones, but my grandparents always take us shopping the week before."

"This is the grandmother that once told a sales assistant that he was a fat, lonely, perverted bastard, yes?" Al asked carefully.

"No, _that _was grandfather," Eliza corrected. "Grandmother is a lot harsher. Once, last year, she showed up at school to pick me up and made my teacher, the teaching assistant and my headmistress cry, all in the space of five minutes. Nobody, and I mean nobody, should ever get on the wrong side of my grandmother, unless they have a death wish or would like to lose their head."

"Your family is really weird, you know that right?" Scorpius sighed.

"Me included?" Eliza added with a grin.

"Oh yeah! You're the weirdest of the lot!"

Eliza poked her tongue out and grinned, before turning the corner, a stack of books in her arms. A small smile played at Scorpius' lips but it faded when he saw Al smirking at him.

"Shut up," he muttered.

"I didn't say anything," Al held his hands up in surrender, the smirk still present.

"You know what I mean," Scorpius said patiently. "All those... looks that you've been giving me."

"Only when you're talking to Eliza," Al countered. "And I can't be the only one to notice how cosy you two have been getting."

"She's our friend," Scorpius sighed, his cheeks turning pink. "Besides, did you really think that I wouldn't notice the pair of you sneaking off during Quidditch?" It was Al's turn to blush, and Scorpius didn't mind that much. He hadn't been that bothered by his two best friends leaving part way through his first ever Quidditch match, as they had come back several minutes later and seen him pull of a spectacular (if he did say so himself) dive, culminating in the snitch being his, and the game going to Slytherin. Both Al and Eliza had jumped up and down excitedly, hugging each other and then Scorpius when he had returned to the ground. They had celebrated with him in the common room, butterbeers courtesy of Eliza and the house elves, and then, when the crowds got to loud and excited, they had both gone up to Al and Scorpius's dorm, talking late into the night, Eliza eventually falling asleep on their sofas and waking up, dazed and confused several hours later. Al and Eliza were his best and closest friends, the only two people in the world that Scorpius had properly connected to. Al had been his friend for longer, their similarities and the things that they both loved giving them an immediate connection. Of course, it had taken longer with Eliza, their stark differences and her stubbornness keeping their friendship from blossoming. But then Eliza had had her meltdown, and all of a sudden, Scorpius could see a scared, vulnerable girl in the place of the razor tongued temptress that had sat among them, her works mocking them every step of the way. Now, he found Eliza's sarcasm and her teasing insults almost endearing. They were a part of her, just as the bored drawl that emerged when Scorpius was angry was part of him and that weird sucked in pout that Al had when he was bored was part of him. It was ingrained in their DNA.

"Do you, you know, _like _Eliza?" Al asked. Scorpius looked at him.

"You mean, like her like her, or _like _her?"

"Second one."

"No! Merlin's beard no! Al have you gone insane?"

"What? The way you look at her, it's as if you can't quite figure out how she's real," Al said.

"Don't tell me you don't look at her the same way," Scorpius replied. "Sometimes there'll be this look on her face, like she's so sad, but she doesn't know why. When she thinks no one's looking there's something in her eyes. Pain and misery, and loneliness. No matter how much she laughs and we muck around, there's something missing. Don't you see that?"

"Yes," Al admitted. "But sometimes I think that you look the same. Like you're lost." Scorpius looked at him curiously and Al continued. "And sometimes I look in the mirror, and I see the same thing. Emptiness, pure, simple emptiness, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"We really are a bunch of weirdoes aren't we?" Scorpius sighed.

"Probably," Al nodded. "But life wouldn't be so fun otherwise."

A snort escaped Scorpius's lips, or maybe it was his nose. Al was right. Life wouldn't be as fun if they were all completely sane and non-weird. Eliza had been the one to declaim that when Al and Scorpius had looked at her as if she were completely mad after she informed them of her decision to help out in the partially destroyed library. Technically, it was, their fault. Nothing had been proven, but as both Eliza and Al had pointed out, it did come straight after their discovery, and neither of them believed in coincidences. If he was being honest, Scorpius didn't either, but he didn't want to take any sort of blame for the destruction of the library. It was a Slytherin thing.

Christmas was on Scorpius's mind as he and Al lounged in the library, watching as Eliza took orders from Madame Whystan and replaced books on shelves. No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the common rooms, the kitchen and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the draughty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. The dungeons were the worst of them all. Professor Aizimio had explained to them coldly, that any kind of heating charm could affect the potions brewed in the room dreadfully, and so they huddled close to their hot cauldrons as their breath rose in a mist before them.

"I do feel so sorry," sneered Horatio Smith, during one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home.

He was looking over at Al as he spoke. McLaggen and Bradley Johansson, the latest sycophant to join the pack, sniggered. Al, who was carefully measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them. Both Eliza and Scorpius however paused. Scorpius crushed a Valerian Root in his hand, and made to turn around, but Eliza shook her head. Her golden eyes had narrowed dangerously, and while Al fastidiously ignored them and continued on with his potion, Scorpius could see a crafty idea forming in his friend's mind.

"Have you got any of those twister things left?" Eliza whispered. Scorpius nodded slowly.

"In my bag, why?"

"Because Al is our friend, and Smith is going to pay for what he said," Eliza replied harshly, an evil smirk lighting up her face. "He needs to be knocked down a peg, and we're just the people to help him with that."

Eliza was right, as always. Smith and McLaggen had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Normally, the three Slytherins traded insults with the two Gryffindor brutes, but disgusted that Gryffindor had lost to the Slytherin in a Quidditch match, they had become more cruel and taunting with their insults. At first they had picked on Eliza, but after Alex Leytii gave them both a black eye they moved onto Al.

It was true that Al was having second thoughts about going back home to Tannor Farm for Christmas and the rest of the holidays. Professor Grant had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays. Scorpius knew that he was going home, and though it had been a panicked, troublesome decision for her, Eliza was also going home for the holidays. Al however, had not yet decided. He had put his name down to stay at Hogwarts and then confided in Eliza and Scorpius that he had spoken to Professor Grant and reserved the right to change his mind and go home for Christmas at any time.

Scorpius fished a long, tall glass jar from his pocket and discretely passed it to Eliza under the table. Eliza took it, the long fingers of her hand brushing against Scorpius's hand. Several minutes passed and everyone continued with their potions. Just when Horatio turned away to talk to McLaggen Eliza unscrewed the lid, whispered several words and thrust her arm towards the table where the two young Gryffindors were sat. Scorpius could not quite see what she had thrust that way, but he did see a whitish, silvery blue blur head straight towards Horatio's cauldron.

"Now!" Eliza cried, forcing Al down as she and Scorpius ducked under the table. Al looked completely bemused, glancing at the grinning Eliza and Scorpius. Above them, they could hear the cries of their fellow students, and sniggers burst out. It seemed that the tiny twister that Eliza had thrown had landed _in _Smith's cauldron and started up a miniature tornado of hair raising potion, coating everyone in a five metre distance of the cauldron in a greenish-blue gloop, their hair now standing on end.

"_LEYTII!" _Rose Weasley screamed, her frizzy red hair standing on end just like everyone else's. Eliza was giggling away, her eyes lit up in amusement. Al was shaking his head though he too was laughing merrily and Scorpius's face was lit up in a wide grin.

"Miss Leytii, I know that your brother seems to feel the need to play pranks constantly, but is there not a way in which you could forego this trait?" Professor Aizimio sighed wearily.

"Possibly," Eliza said thoughtfully. "I've never tried it before; but perhaps there may be something I could do." Aizimio opened her mouth and then closed it again, looking bewildered.

"Get out of my classroom," she said eventually. "All of you!"

When the left the dungeons, most of the class was glaring at the still giggling Eliza, Al and Scorpius but the three young Slytherins couldn't care less. At the end of the corridor, blocking the path ahead, was a large fir tree. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom, and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it. Both Eliza and Scorpius glanced at Al slightly nervously. They knew that Al, and the half-giant that he had been friends with for so long hadn't actually spoken since their altercation on the very first Friday of the term.

"Hi Hagrid!" Rose Weasley said cheerfully, her hair now returned to its normal, frizzy self. "Want any help?" she asked sticking her head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm alright, thanks, Rose."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" McLaggen's cold sneer came from behind her. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasel Queen? I expect your family still can't afford much more than that pigsty you have at the moment. Still, I would have thought that hair dye would be on your list."

"Would you mind shutting your fat mouth?" Al's voice was equally cold, as he stepped forward, arms folded.

"Yes, you do seem to be lowering the IQ of the entire school," Scorpius added.

"And quite frankly, your insults suck!" Eliza finished off. "You could at least pick on the fact that the girl is stupider than a monkey's behind; no offence Weaslette, you're just a bit annoying and you need to invest in some conditioner. Or some straighteners."

"Eliza," Al said sharply. "Not helping."

"Sorry," Eliza apologised insincerely in a singsong voice, a pretty smile upon her delicate face. Al rolled his eyes while Scorpius sniggered.

"Causing trouble again Miss Leytii?" a new voice came from the end of the corridor, and everyone turned to see Newberry sauntering towards them, an evil smirk upon her face. Eliza seemed to resist the urge to roll her eyes, but her lip curled upwards in distaste, and Scorpius could tell that she was itching to let loose a string of insults. "Tut tut! We may have to arrange a detention for you once more!"

"She was only defending Rose!" Al objected.

"Quiet! Mr Potter!" Newberry hissed, her eyes flashing.

"Hey, don' have a go at him," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "It's him what ought to be sorry." He nodded towards McLaggen. "He insulted our Rose's family! A family of heroes!"

This time Eliza really did roll her eyes. Scorpius clenched his fists, eyes flashing angrily. He had seen the disgusted look that Hagrid had shot him. Al glanced sideways at him, anger in his eyes too. Neither boy was stupid. They both knew of their parent's past in the second wizarding war. Though Al had only come to know about once he had arrived at Hogwarts, both boys had Scorpius was the son of a former death eater and so pretty much everyone disliked his family. Al would have been disliked only by the Slytherins had he gone to any other house, but he had been sorted into Slytherin, and so Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff saw him as a traitor, and family relations didn't matter. come to terms with what had happened in their parent's time, and were better friends because of it. Eliza though, had no family who had been involved in the war, but because of her muggleborn status she hadn't been accepted by all in Slytherin, and because she was in Slytherin, other houses tended to ostracize her too. They were a trio of pariahs in the school, but they worked so well together.

"Is this true Miss Weasley?" Newberry asked suspiciously. Rose nodded bitterly. While she had somewhat made peace with Al, she still disliked Eliza intensely. As for Scorpius, well, she didn't dislike Scorpius, but she wasn't exactly friendly with him either. "Get out of my sight!"

With one last contemptuous look at Newberry, Rose and Hagrid, Eliza and Scorpius each put an arm around Al and steered him away from the scene.

"I hate Newberry!" Al muttered viciously.

"Al, Newberry hates Newberry," Scorpius said rolling his eyes. "That's probably why she's so horrible."

"Yeah, she seriously needs to get laid," Eliza added. Al and Scorpius turned to look at her. "What? My dad likes to watch reruns of Vicar of Dibley. It's funny!"

"Do you even know what that means?" Scorpius asked amusedly.

"Not really, no," Eliza shook her head. "But come on Al! It's nearly Christmas! Come and see the Great Hall, Alex says that it looks amazing!"

"When did you have time to talk to Alex?" Al asked curiously.

"We have a brother/sister psychic connection," Eliza answered. "No, really, we do!" She rolled her eyes at Al and Scorpius' doubtful expressions. "When have I _ever _lied to you?"

"Eliza, five minutes into our very first meeting you created a whole new identity for yourself," Al pointed out. Eliza shrugged.

"What? I wasn't going to tell you my real name. I didn't know who you were!"

"So you created a false identity?"

"I've already explained all this," Eliza sighed. "Can we please not go back over the beginnings of my breakdown? Healer Aaronsbeck is bad enough. I don't need my two best friends reminding me every three months."

"We're your best friends?" Scorpius asked softly.

"Well, yeah," Eliza shrugged. "You two are the only real friends I've ever had. I need you. You are the only people, other than Alex and his bunch of weirdoes, who have ever accepted me just for who I am, despite all the crazy."

"Aw," Scorpius cooed teasingly, throwing an arm around Eliza's shoulder. "Look Al, she loves us too! Isn't that sweet!"

"You people are weird!" Al stated impassively. Both Scorpius and Eliza turned to him, the evil grins on their faces identical, despite the fact that they were completely different races. "No, no! Oh no! Somebody help me!" he cried turning to run as his two best friends lunged for him, pulling him into a hug as they crashed to the floor. "Help! Anyone! I'm being attacked by a pair of maniacs!" Al was pinned to the floor by both Scorpius and Eliza. It was Eliza who had the most control though. She was both taller and stronger than both the boys. It was unsurprising really, Al and Scorpius both had the same thin build and as Eliza had said, they had the muscle definition of a twig, and weighed about the same. Eliza, while she most certainly was not fat, actually had muscle and was considerably taller than both of them.

"Maniacs are we?" Eliza teased, her lilting Welsh accent lifting as her eyes lit up. "I suppose we'll just have to sort that out." She wiggled her long fingers and moved them towards Al's torso and sides. Al shook his head frantically.

"No! No! Scorpius help me!" he cried as Eliza began to tickle him furiously, giggles emerging quite freely from her mouth.

Unfortunately for Al, Scorpius, like Eliza, seemed to be enjoying the strange, squeaking noises coming from Al's mouth. The pair were giggling like a pair of infants and soon Scorpius had joined in with the tickle attack. He was straddling Al's chest while Eliza had trapped Al's legs. Odd giggling noises that, according to Eliza's snickers, sounded like a cat jumping on hot needles dipped in curry sauce. How that girl thought of those things was utterly beyond Al and Scorpius.

"I submit, I submit!" Al gasped eventually. "Just let me breathe."

"We are the champions, we are the champions!" Eliza had begun to sing, her sweet voice clear and beautiful. "No time for losers, 'cause we are the champions... Of the world!" She lifted her arms in a victory wave as she climbed off of Al.

"You sing beautifully," Scorpius said in surprise.

"Of course I do," Eliza replied rolling her eyes. "I'm Welsh. The land of Aled Jones and The Snowman."

"What?"

"Muggle reference," Eliza sais shaking her head. "Same as the song. Don't worry about it."

"Enough tickling now, I want to see the hall!"

So the three of them made their way to the Great Hall, Eliza and Scorpius still sniggering slightly about the attack they had mounted upon Al, which he didn't appreciate... that much. As they entered the Great Hall they saw Professor Grant and Professor Costello busy putting finishing touches to the Christmas decorations.

In the far corner, Hagrid, accompanied by Rose, was putting the last of twelve towering Christmas trees in place. The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and the twelve Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles. Soft, white flakes of enchanted snow was falling from the ceiling, while ice statues depicting all manner of phoenixes had been placed around the hall. They were beautiful and the three first years stared in amazement.

"Oh wow!" Scorpius breathed.

"Incredible isn't it?" a voice from behind them came, and the three of them jumped. Standing behind them was Professor Quidel, a smirk similar to Eliza's on his face. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. It was hilarious when I jumped out from a statue to scare that awful McLaggen child!"

"Are you allowed to do that?" Al asked. Quidel shrugged.

"Probably not, but I had a scream mask on, so he won't know it was me."

"A scream mask? Seriously Professor?" Eliza giggled.

"I love those films, don't you?"

"Dad never let me watch them."

"And you let that stop you?"

"No, not really," Eliza admitted with a grin. Quidel nodded, a grin on his face too. "Oh, I have your book back sir. It was really great. Thank you so much for letting me borrow your collection."

"Anytime Miss Leytii," Quidel replied, bowing his head to her slightly. "It's always refreshing to see a young person interested in classic literature. Most of the younger generation are more interested in bloody Quidditch and that hideous singer Celestina Warbeck! God almighty, she sounds..."

"Like a hamster ball being crushed by a lawnmower with the hamster inside?" Eliza suggested. "And the owner of the hamster squealing with it!" A delighted smile had lit up her face as Quidel shook with laughter.

"You, young lady, are too quick for your own good. Mr Malfoy, I suggest that you keep an eye on her while I have a word with you Mr Potter here."

"Me?" Al choked. Quidel smiled gently at him.

"Don't worry, you're not in trouble. I just need to talk to you about something. I tell you what, why don't you come for a walk with me?"

It wasn't a question. Al nodded nervously. Eliza and Scorpius gave him reassuring smiles before Quidel and Al exited the room. Just before they were out of sight, Al saw Eliza punch Scorpius in the arm and flick him on the ear as they sat down together at the Slytherin table.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Al asked anxiously as he and his headmaster left the entrance hall and made their way slowly towards the lake.

"Your holiday plans," Quidel said simply. Al froze and Quidel continued. "I know, I know that things are strained between you and your family; I have told your brother and cousins off many times and given them detentions for attempting to fake letters from you."

"They've been doing what!" Al exclaimed. "I'm going to bloody kill James!" It was only when Al had said those words when he realised what he had said. "I didn't mean... I just... Sorry?" he attempted, biting his lip.

"Albus, it's fine. If you don't tell on me, then I won't tell on you; 'kay?"

"Sir, can I just say, you are awesome!" Al laughed. Quidel smirked.

"Of course I am! Eliza Leytii herself told me that I was, and I quote 'pretty good, sir', so, if an eleven year old girl with bipolar disorder says that, then I must be pretty awesome." Al shook his head, a small grin on his face. "Although if her father ever finds out that I leant her Catch 22, then I'm a dead man."

"You've met Eliza's dad?"

"Oh yeah, and trust me, when she brings her first boyfriend home, he will run for the hills. Dr Leytii is both scary, and huge! He could squash you little midgets in seconds. I'd hate to see him pissed off, and Alex will be a monster when he's older." Quidel and Al grinned, but then Quidel's face sobered slightly and he turned to look at Al gently. The nervousness that had dissipated returned viciously. "Now then..."

"You need to know what I'm doing for the holidays, don't you?" Al sighed.

"I'm afraid so. It's not that any of the staff want to put pressure on you, but we do need your final decision on what you'll be doing," Quidel said sadly.

"What do you think I should do?"

"You want advice from a man who considers a mild compliment from an eleven year old with a mental illness as one of his greatest achievements?"

"Well, no," Al said, trying not to laugh. "But I do want the advice of my headmaster."

"Al, I don't even have a teaching degree," Quidel pointed out. "Apparently it's not necessary to have one in the magical world." Al raised his eyebrows. "Hey, I didn't grow up in this world. It takes a lot to get used to it. But that's beside the point. I know how messy families can be, mine wasn't exactly a dream, but they are your family. No matter what they do, you'll always love them in some way. It's how families work. You fight, you argue, and you set fire to each other's clothes (long story, don't ask), but you always find a place in your heart to forgive them, eventually."

"Really?" Al asked hopefully.

"Well, yeah, just look at Miss Leytii. We _all _know how she was at the beginning of the year, and now she's going home for Hanukah. If she can do it, then you can. By all standards, she's got far more reasons to be annoyed and angry than you do."

"Yeah, she's told me many times," Al nodded. "But I don't know if I can. They basically abandoned me since I got sorted into Slytherin. It made me feel alone, and I haven't had a single letter from my parents since my dad told me he'd see me at Christmas. So much for: we'll love you no matter what." Al rolled his eyes.

"Even if you don't want to go home, you should go, just to prove to them that it hasn't broken you, and that Slytherin, and your friends, have made you stronger," Quidel suggested.

"You want me to stick it in their faces?" Al asked.

"Pretty much, yeah!" Quidel nodded. "What's the point of having siblings if you can't rub success in their faces once in a while."

"Your siblings must hate you," Al said. Quidel shrugged.

"They can take me or leave me," he answered. "Go on, I'm sure that Miss Leytii and Mr Malfoy are deep in a discussion about something stupid and pointless that they need you to break up. Honestly, if the three of you didn't have each other, this school would be in ruins."

* * *

Eliza was panicking. And it was really distracting. Six days had passed since Quidel and Al had spoken outside by the lake and since then, Al had decided to go home after all; purely so that he could stick his newfound success and friendship in the faces of all of his family, Scorpius had become more and more excited and had taken to playing Christmas Carols on the piano in the Slytherin common room at stupid o'clock, and Eliza had freaked out. The realisation that she was actually going home to have a civil conversation with her father had hit her hard mere hours after Al had told his friends of his decision. She had come bursting into their dorm at forty three minutes past two in the morning, jabbering away in a rapid mix of Hebrew, German and English. In their sleep deprived state, neither of the boys had been able to understand more than a word of her speech and so they had just stared at her until she stopped talking. Since then, Eliza had been in full panic mode, muttering under her breath in a strange mix of languages, almost none of which anyone else had been able to understand. Even Alex Leytii had asked her to repeat things again once or twice.

"If she doesn't shut up soon, I'm either going to kill her, or kill myself," Scorpius muttered as the pair of them shoved his trunk up on the luggage shelf in the compartment that they had grabbed, as soon as they boarded the train.

"Just let her be," Al sighed. "You know she's panicking like crazy about going home."

"I know," Scorpius replied heatedly. "But she's been muttering about it in twenty three different languages over the past week."

"...e kounye a, sa ki mwen pral fè?" Eliza asked as she flopped into a seat.

"Make that twenty four," Scorpius muttered.

"Give her a break," Al smiled. "And she can't be that worried, she colour coordinated her shoes, clothes and bag. Not to mention her hair."

Al was right. Eliza had picked out an outfit for the train ride back to King's Cross four days before they were meant to go, and had decided to go with (according to Scorpius) a classic winter theme. She was wearing a cream chiffon blouse, deep blue jeans, brown leather boots and a brown, sheepskin aviator jacket. Her bag was also brown leather, and clearly designer, though according to Eliza, it was last seasons, whatever that meant. Eliza had, for once, let her hair down completely. It cascaded past her shoulders in a waterfall of iced chocolate curls. She looked like a supermodel compared to Al and Scorpius, as Al had just gone with jeans, trainers, a green t-shirt and jumper, and a winter coat, and Scorpius was wearing robes of sapphire blue with a matching woollen cloak. All three of them had gloves, though Scorpius and Eliza had leather ones while all just went for his worn green ones.

"...and I just don't know what to do anymore," Eliza was saying as the train began to move. At least she was speaking in English now. "What if he doesn't want to see me? Will he forgive me? I mean, I did sort of express hatred and resentment and anger at him for two whole years. I sort of made his life hell. What if he's still angry at me? It took me two years to get over one little thing, what if it takes him longer?"

Al and Scorpius had found, over the past week, that when Eliza was ranting, it was probably best not to interrupt her and just make affirmative noises. Alex Leytii had told them in no uncertain terms that Eliza liked an audience for her rants, mostly so that she didn't wander around talking to herself, or a plastic skull that she had and that if interrupted, she was likely to explode, in several different languages. Apparently Eliza didn't want to seem more insane than she already was, and so the boys were quite happy to pretend to listen to her. Well, Al pretended. Scorpius had given up and had taken to reading newspapers and magazines while Eliza was venting.

"...and maybe I should just strip naked and parade around King's Cross in my underwear," Eliza suggested.

"Mmm-hmm," Al said, staring out the window. "Good idea." It took a few moments for the words to register in Al's brain. "Wait, what?"

"I knew you weren't listening!" Eliza exclaimed angrily.

"We were," Al insisted.

"No we weren't," Scorpius countered, still not looking up from his newspaper.

"Okay, so we weren't really," Al admitted. "But it's not like we wanted to ignore you..."

"Except we did." Scorpius again.

"Will you shut up?"

"Sorry."

"Eliza, we know this matters to you, and it matters to us..."

"No it doesn't," Scorpius interrupted again, and Al shot him a filthy look.

"It matters to us," Al continued. "But you've been saying it for the past week. We get it. You just need to relax now, and let what will be, be. It can't hurt."

"Why do you always have to be right?" Eliza asked, nudging Al with her shoulder light-heartedly.

"'Cause I'm a genius," he grinned.

For the rest of the train ride Eliza was much more relaxed, though she kept nervously tapping her thighs with one hand, the other gripping the handles of her bag. She even managed a half-decent conversation with Al and Scorpius, and quite frankly, she was better company than Scorpius, who seemed more interested in his horoscope than their conversation.

When the train pulled to a stop, both Eliza and Al were looking pale. Only Scorpius looked normal as he folded up his paper, and pulled his and Al's trunks down from the luggage rack. Only Eliza could manage on her own, as she had a small suitcase on wheels with just the essentials packed as she knew full well that her grandmother would buy her more clothes the moment that they arrived in Berlin.

Platform nine and three quarters was packed with people. Al, Scorpius and Eliza got off the train and stood there in the swarm of parents and pupils milling about. None of the three knew what to do, or how to find their parents.

"Eliza! Eliza!"

It was Alex Leytii. He was waving at the three of them, and Eliza nodded towards him before leading the way towards him.

"You won't believe who's here!" Alex said, brimming with excitement.

"Who?" Eliza asked curiously.

"Zat vould be me," a deep, rich, German accented voice said from behind them. Eliza whirled around and threw her arms around the man standing behind her.

"Grandfather!" she cried enthusiastically. Once she let go she turned to Al and Scorpius. "Al, Scorpius, this is my grandfather. Grandfather, these are my two best friends, Al, and Scorpius."

"Guten Tag," Mr Leytii said graciously, bowing his head slightly. "It is most pleasant to meet you." Eliza's grandfather looked very much like Alex. They had the same sort of build, though Mr Leytii was much taller, and much more built. His skin was also wrinkled and perhaps a bit more leathery, as well as having a beard. Both his beard and hair, the same shade of brown as Eliza and Alex's, had streaks of silver running through it. His eyes, unlike Eliza and Alex's, were not shimmering gold, but a rich, deep brown. He seemed perfectly relaxed in a pair of jeans, a rich blue shirt and a stylish winter coat. "And it's fantastic to see you again darling."

"You too Grandfather," Eliza smiled sweetly. "But where's daddy?"

"He's picking up Simeon as we speak. Traffic was bad, so he's going to meet us at home."

"Right," Eliza said understandingly. "Where's grandmother?"

"At home. She refused to leave the house while your rooms were not fully prepared. I swear, that voman is getting stranger and stranger every day."

"Well, she did marry you," Eliza teased.

"Watch it, kiddo! Come on, we're going to be late for our flight."

Eliza waved goodbye to Al and Scorpius, pulling them both into a hug before she departed from the platform.

"See you next term," she called back as Al and Scorpius turned to find their own families, smiles on their faces.

* * *

It had been a long time since Eliza had been this happy. She was strolling in between her grandfather, and her brother, chattering away in fluent German on her way to Heathrow airport; life couldn't be better!

"So how's school?" grandfather asked. "Alex tells me that you are already excelling."

"Only in a few things," Eliza replied with a smile. "Charms and Herbology mostly. I'm at the top of those classes, no one can be me in Charms!"

"Yeah, even I'm struggling to stay ahead of her," Alex teased. Eliza poked her tongue out at him. "Seriously though, grandfather. This girl is freakishly good at Charms. I know fifth years who don't have her talent."

"Well, she's always been our little star, hasn't she?" grandfather teased, squeezing her to his side, an embarrassed smile upon her face. "Really though sweetheart, we're all so proud of you. These past few years haven't been easy for you, but you came out stronger, and even more beautiful than you already are."

Eliza smiled, blood rushing to her cheeks. She had missed this.

Once they had left platform nine and three quarters, her grandfather not reacting at all to having to walk through a wall, they made their way through the crowd of people, all of them swarming in different directions. Eliza wrinkled her nose as the sooty scent of King's Cross Station filled her nostrils. London was so dirty these days; back when she was younger it had been pretty filthy, but now it was covered in a layer of black. Outside the station, Alex hailed a cab, and they shoved their suitcases into the boot.

"Where to guvn'r?" the cabbie asked.

"Heathrow airport please," Eliza told him.

"Right you are miss," the driver said, and pulled out into the busy roads.

As someone who was not familiar with the layout of London, Eliza didn't actually know where they were going. Of course, she knew their destination, but she was terrible with directions and hadn't a clue as to how to actually get to Heathrow airport. The car was stuck in a mass of unmoving traffic for quite a time. Every now and again it would begin to move but they would come to a stop soon afterwards. Hogwarts wasn't something that could be spoken about until they were in private and so an almost awkward silence reigned in the taxi.

Eventually, they pulled up at Heathrow. Eliza and Alex climbed out, opening the boot to grab their suitcases while grandfather paid the driver. They then proceeded to enter the airport, and Eliza lost almost all will to live. She had forgotten how annoying check in and customs at airports in the UK were.

Grandfather hated airports even more than Eliza and Alex did, especially as he held an Israeli passport and was looked at suspiciously every time he went through customs. There was but one thing that Eliza enjoyed at airports, and that was throwing filthy looks at the customs officers as they searched her grandfather's face suspiciously. It was something of a sport to her and Alex. They liked to see who could get the best response from people. Eliza usually won.

By the time that the plane they were on was up in the air, grandfather had been stopped by security a total of six times, Alex swore under his breath in various languages seventy three times, occasionally earning a reprimand from grandfather, and Eliza shot no less than one hundred and twenty nine looks at a variety of passers by.

The plane journey was uneventful. The moment that Eliza sat down she put in her headphones, plugged in her iPod, pressed play and sat back with a book. Alex did the same, only his earphones were white, not black. When they landed, Eliza, Alex and grandfather stepped off the train and spent the next twenty eight minutes standing by the baggage carousel, waiting for their suitcases. Eliza's patterned blue suitcase was actually taken by a blonde woman wearing far too much makeup and a pair of heels so high that Eliza didn't know how she could walk and she had to chase after the woman, and explain in perfect (if she did say so herself) Swedish that it was her bag, and the identity tag on it read _her _name. By the time that she had convinced the woman of her identity and that it was her suitcase, Alex and Grandfather had caught up.

They caught another taxi into the heart of Berlin and headed for the Charlottenburg district, where the Leytii's Berlin townhouse was located. Eliza had spent every Christmas there with her grandparents since she was born and as a result it almost felt more like her home than their house in Carmarthen. Almost. Though Berlin, it's weather and it's people were all better and far more interesting than Wales, there was something comforting about the mist and fog and rain of Wales, along with the accent.

Number 53 wasn't the grandest, most lavishly decorated house on the street, nor was it the biggest, but Eliza knew that the only reason it had been bought was because the number on the door was hers and Alex's birth dates added together. It was beautiful though, the stone painted in an elegant cream colour, the eggshell blue gables eye catching against the dove grey sky, the clouds heavy with snow. The same soft white snow had settled upon the roof and the roads outside. A smile lit up Eliza's pretty face when she saw the black front door swing open.

"Bubby!" Eliza cried, leaping out of the taxi before the door had come to a stop. Her grandmother looked at her disapprovingly. "Sorry, Grandmother! It's good to see you again."

"And you my darling," grandmother replied with a soft smile.

In the Leytii family, grandmother was one of only two people who didn't look very similar. Grandfather, Alex and dad basically charted three stages of life. It was easy to see what Alex would look like in twenty five and then fifty years. Eliza was essentially a slighter, female version of them, with much longer hair, but grandmother really stood out amongst them. She was only a few inches taller that Eliza, with fair, beautifully cared for skin and glossy golden hair, now streaked with grey and white. Her eyes were large and crystal blue, instead of the warm brown that Dad and Grandfather had or the bright gold that Eliza and Alex shared. It was grandmother that Eliza had inherited her shopping habits from, and naturally she was dressed in a pair of designer dress trousers, a champagne silk shirt and heeled boots. Bracelets and necklaces decorated her wrists and neck, while pearls gleamed in her ears. Rings sparkled on her fingers and Eliza could feel the diamonds of her engagement ring digging into her back as she was embraced by the only female member of family that she knew.

"Your hair is far too long," grandmother said when she released Eliza. "I'll take you to get it cut tomorrow."

"Grandmother!" Eliza complained. "I like it long."

"It looks like a rat's nest."

"Well urban chic is _very _in at the moment!" Eliza countered.

"This holiday, can you two go at least one day without talking about clothes and fashion?" Alex requested as he humped both his case and Eliza's up the stone steps to the front door.

"We'll try Alex dear," grandmother said, fondly kissing him on the cheek. "But you need a haircut too. Maybe I'll take the lot of you to the salon tomorrow. All of you need a haircut! Do you not have scissors in Wales?"

"Liza and I have been living in a rock in Scotland for the past three and a half months," Alex pointed out. "And we're not allowed out of school very often."

"You two have a woeful excuse, but it is one nonetheless," grandmother sighed. "But Matthias and Simeon have none."

"Dad's here?" Eliza asked fearfully.

"With Uncle Simeon? Awesome!" Alex grinned. "Where are they?"

"Kitchen," grandmother informed him.

"I think I'll probably just go unpack," Eliza said slowly.

"Oh no you don't!" Grandmother warned her. "You will go into the kitchen, greet your father and your uncle and then you will sit and eat with us. Am I clear?"

"Yes bubby, Eliza said cheekily, darting inside.

The kitchen was at the back of the house and so Eliza followed her brother through the hallway to a tiled room, perfectly cleaned and elegantly done. The white and chrome was different to how it had been last Christmas, and Eliza found herself drawn to the breakfast bar where two men of around thirty five were sat, laughing.

"Hi daddy," Eliza said quietly as the laughter stopped. Her father was looking at her, concerned.

"Hey," her father replied softly, standing up and walking towards her.

Both Eliza and her father were stood there awkwardly for a moment; each of them taking in the other's appearance.

"I missed you," Eliza murmured, darting forward and placing her arms around her father's waist in a tight hug. His strong arms found their way around her back and Eliza drank in the musky scent of his cologne as she buried her head in his soft shirt. She didn't know whether it was the cologne, or maybe her father's natural smell, but he always smelled good, just like home, like reassurance and trust...and love.

"I missed you too squirt."

"M'not a squirt," Eliza protested.

"No offence kid, but you are. The amount of hair you've got makes up for it though," dad grinned and Eliza poked her tongue out.

"Well thank God for that!" Alex sighed in relief, taking his father's now unoccupied seat. "She's been doing her friend's heads in for about a week!"

"Our Liza has friends?" the other man at the breakfast bar said teasingly.

"Watch it!"

"Come on, give me hug!" Uncle Simeon grinned, holding out his arms. Eliza let go of her father and made her way over to her uncle, pulling him into a hug.

"How's the leg?" she asked.

"Bad as ever," Uncle Simeon rolled his eyes, tapping his left leg with the polished cane at his side. "Your dad managed to upset customs enough for them to give me a bit of a tap on the leg. Damn interfering bastards."

"Language!" grandmother reprimanded.

"English," Simeon replied cheekily.

Eliza stifled a yawn as she laughed. Unfortunately her father, always the first one to notice if anything was wrong with her, saw and raised his eyebrows in a similar fashion to the way she did.

"Have you been sleeping?" he asked concerned.

"Now and again," Eliza answered truthfully. Her father always knew when she was lying. "It's been better since the bipolar settled down a bit. Al and Scorp have helped too."

"Who are Al and Scorp?" grandmother questioned sharply. "And what kind of a name is Scorp anyway?"

"It's short for Scorpius."

"Like that's any better! In fact it's worse. What were his parents thinking?"

"Not sure," Eliza sighed. "Apparently you have to be named after a star or some sort of figure in Greek Mythology in his family."

"And this boy is her best friend," Alex muttered.

"He's better than your best friend," Eliza retorted. "At least Scorp doesn't drone on for hours about Freddie Mercury, and then call seventh years trolls for the whole school to hear like Leander!"

"I seem to recall you calling a third year two and a half times your size a troll!"

"You did what?" the adults exclaimed (Simeon and grandfather sounded impressed while Dad and grandmother sounded worried).

"Actually I called him a mix between a troll and a gorilla," Eliza corrected. "And then I hexed him, it wasn't a big deal."

"We have to redefine your definition of a big deal," Dad said rolling his eyes but looking slightly impressed nonetheless. "Now, bed. You need to sleep."

There was no point in arguing with her father, Eliza reasoned as she made her way up the stairs to her room at the top of the house. Despite not having his blood running through her veins, they were far more similar than he and Alex were. Like Eliza, Dad could argue with himself over anything, and he'd had a lot more practice than Eliza did, so it was probably wise not to argue with the man. He spent his days debating with troublesome university students after all.

Straight ahead of her, at the top of the stairs was Eliza's room. It had been hers since she was little, just as the other bedroom on the floor had been Alex's for years. Dad and Uncle Simeon's rooms were on the second floor and the master bedroom, her grandparents' room was the floor below that. Eliza pushed open the door and stared at the change in her room. She wasn't really surprised; everything else in the house had been redecorated. There must have been a flood or something, but maybe it was for the better. She liked the new decoration. Her walls were now a soft gold and the furniture was dark wood, some of it inlayed with gold leaf, to match the walls. She now had a large four poster bed, gauzy golden material serving as the canopy and what was clearly Egyptian cotton sheets on top. It didn't take long for Eliza to sink into the soft bed, close her eyes and drift off to sleep.

* * *

Al was staring out of the window of his bedroom. Once Eliza had disappeared off with her brother and grandfather, Scorpius too had found his parents, waved to Al and promised to write during the holidays before vanishing off. He had then found his parents and sat in the most awkward car journey ever. As soon as they had reached their house Dad had grabbed him and pulled him into the kitchen for a talk. Al had sat there, listened to his father's apologies and now really taken much in. He had nodded though, and hugged his father before going back to the rest of his family.

Once the holidays started properly, Al found himself having a lot of fun, too much fun to think much about Highclere. He and his cousins did the same thing they all did, alternating between which houses they played at. The thick layer of snow was perfect for snowball fights and Al had an excellent time throwing them at his so called family. It wasn't as fun as the day that Al had spent playing in the snow with Eliza and Scorpius, but seeing James be smacked in the face by a ball of frozen water amused him to no end. If only his friends had been there to double over with laughter too. Oh, how Al wished he had caught it on camera. After playing in the snow for most of the day, the Potters and Weasleys would sit by the fire, eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork: bread, English muffins and marshmallows. Among all this excitement Al felt incredibly lonely. His family weren't ignoring him completely as they had been at school, but he didn't have Scorpius or Eliza to keep him company at home, and though he wasn't being ignored completely, there was a definite frostiness to the air.

On Christmas Eve, Al fell asleep in his comfortable bed with its familiar blue sheets. He went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, and the presents. When he woke at nine in the morning, the first thing he saw however, was the bright red hair and gleaming brown eyes of his younger sister.

"Taek!" Al cried out, gasping in breaths. "You frightened me Lily!"

"What does taek mean?" Lily asked curiously.

"I'll tell you when you're older," Al said distractedly. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to tell you to come downstairs. Mum won't let us open any presents until you're up too."

"Right, I'll be down in a sec." Lily nodded and then scampered off, dodging her way through the mess that was on Al's floor. He had only been back for just over a week, but had already created an enormous mess that made his kingfisher blue room look like a bomb site. "Merry Christmas," Al greeted sleepily as he made his way downstairs, pulling his dressing gown on.

"Morning Al, did you sleep alright?" Dad asked. Al just shrugged.

"Presents!" Lily squealed, practically diving at the pile of presents under the tree. Al rolled his eyes.

The Potters spent the next three hours opening presents. Lily had already spent about three hours sorting out presents for each person. Al picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in a colourful and stylish paper that could only have come from Eliza. Sure enough, there was a tag on the side, and written in the flowing script of Eliza were the words: Merry Christmas Al, From Eliza. Inside was a box of VO5 hair care products. Al stared at the conditioning spray, styling spray, power gel, styling mousse and putty and then burst out laughing.

"What exactly is this?" Lily asked curiously. "And who bought it for you?"

"Why is a better question," Mum muttered.

"Eliza bought me hair products," Al laughed. "She's always complaining about my hair. Says that I ruin the ascetic of her and Scorpius."

The second parcel was from Scorpius. It contained a thick leather bound book with the title embossed in gold. Al stared at The Potion Master's Guide in awe. It was a book that only seventh years taking Potions could get out of the library because of the complexity of the potions in it. How Scorpius had managed to get a hold of it was beyond Al.

His parents had bought him more potions supplies and James and Lily had chipped in to buy him a broom servicing kit to replace his old one. Uncle George, Aunt Angelina, Roxy and Freddie had sent each of the three Potters a box of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes products. Uncle Percy, Aunt Audrey, Molly, Lucy, Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, Rose and Hugo had all sent him books and the rest of his family had sent him various sweets and chocolates. Uncle Bill seemed to have forgotten that Al didn't like lemon and lime sugar quills, but Scorpius could have the lemon ones, and Eliza could probably sell the lime ones for a profit on the black market if she didn't want to eat them. Hell, she could probably sell them as Heroin if she tried. The very last parcel was from his grandmother. Al tore open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted jumper in the same kingfisher blue as his room. A sigh escaped his lips. Not only did Al hate the jumpers, he got one _every _year after all, but he hadn't been given a green one as he normally was, and that was probably because he was now in Slytherin, and the Weasleys couldn't be seen to be supporting Slytherin.

Once all their presents had been opened, they went upstairs to get dressed before they went over to their grandparents' house. Every year they did this, and every year Al would have to wear his Christmas jumper. But not this year. Slytherin had made him...rebellious. He would see how his family liked being on the other side. Oh Eliza and Scorpius would be proud!

Al went downstairs to join his family by the fireplace.

"Don't you want to wear your jumper Al?" his mother asked.

"Not really, no," Al replied. "It's always hot at the Burrow at Christmas. I'll roast faster than the turkey." A grin escaped his lips as his mother huffed angrily and shouted for Lily to hurry up. James glared at his brother as he came down the stairs. Al knew that he too hated having to wear the thick, itchy jumpers their grandmother knitted.

When Lily arrived downstairs, wearing the pink jumper that clashed terribly with her hair (another of their grandmother's creations) they each took a handful of floo powder, tossed it in the fireplace and stepped into the emerald flames that would transport them to their grandmother's house.

The whole, extended clan of Weasleys were waiting for the Potters when they arrived out of the fireplace. All of them were wearing new jumpers. Grandma must have been knitting them since July, Al mused as he brushed soot off of himself.

"Harry" Grandma smiled, embracing dad. Al resisted the urge to roll his eyes as one by one they were all pulled into crushing embraces. "Come on through to the kitchen, we're about to start dinner.

In his twelve years Al had had just as many Christmas dinners. His grandma always did roast turkey, succulent and juicy; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce and stacks of wizard crackers at every place. Al had had Muggle ones before, at school, and they were feeble compared to wizard ones with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats. When pulled, wizard crackers didn't just bang, they went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded almost anything, from a rear admiral's hat to several live, white mice. Flaming Christmas puddings were served after the turkey. Al groaned as he nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. He had never like Christmas pudding much, and almost breaking his teeth was just another reason for him to dislike it.

When Al finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of nonexplodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and a new wizard chess set. Lily had screamed when the white mice had been released and no one had seen them since. Strangely enough, Al couldn't find it in him to care.

After lunch they spent the afternoon having a furious snowball fight in the orchard. It would have been so much more fun if Scorpius and Eliza had been there, but Al still amused himself hitting his family directly in the face, and it was great chasing practice. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath they returned to the fire in the living room, where Al broke in his new chess set by beating Rose spectacularly. Sadly she was one of the few people that he could actually beat, even Eliza, who had only ever played two games of chess before in her life had managed to beat him, while she was sketching the game, _and _doing her Charms homework.

Supper was a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before they returned home to go to bed except sit lazily in front of the fire and talk to each other, though Al had brought his new potions book with him and was reading it avidly.

"Did Scorpius get you that?" a soft voice asked. Al looked up to see his Aunt Audrey beside him.

"How did you guess?"

"I do oversee every record in the history of wizard kind for a living Al," Audrey pointed out. "And the whole family has heard about your new...friendship."

"You oversee every single record?" Al questioned, an idea forming in his head. "Like, _all _of them?" His Aunt nodded, a soft smile on her face. "Then do you know anything about Professor Highclere?"

"Highclere you say?" Al nodded.

"Damuiol Highclere is the only Highclere that I saw on any of the records that _I've _been through," Audrey said thoughtfully. "And that was on the list of criminal rehabilitations taken place in the last twelve years."

"What did he do?"

"He was a member of some kind of gang," Audrey shrugged. "I can't remember what it was... But I'm sure that your Professor Highclere is different to the one I'm talking about. The board of Governors wouldn't let anyone with a criminal history like his teach at Hogwarts."

"Of course," Al said, his mind whirring at three hundred miles per hour. He was almost certain that this Damuiol Highclere was Professor Highclere. Now he just needed to find out which gang Highclere had been involved in, and he only had so much time left to do that. He would have to write to both Al and Eliza as soon as he got home.

When he got home, Al went over to his desk and sifted through his drawers to find some parchment and a quill. Just as he put his hands on some parchment he noticed a tapping at his window. Outside was a beautiful owl with rich brown and reddish brown feathers. It was Adonis, Scorpius' owl. Clutched in his beak was a letter. Al took it from him, tossed a couple of owl nuts to the bird and then opened the window to allow the bird to leave once again.

Scorpius's scrawl was untidy, and most unlike him. The letter was brief. It read:

_Al,_

_Highclere's a criminal. He was involved in a group called the Kahlur. I don't know much about them, but I know that they're dangerous. Really dangerous._


	13. Return of a Legend

**Well, for once I'm not super late updating. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and keep on reading. Reviews would be _most _welcome =D**

_Samhain had arrived once more. It announced the beginning of the winter and was the day of remembrance for all those who were lost, and to celebrate their passing. It was the time of the year when those in the kingdom of Joheine felt closest to the spirits of their ancestors. It was an event that was both celebrated and feared among the kingdom; and that meant a feast._

_To the young princess it meant a waste of time. She had never been one for feasts, they always seemed unnecessary and boring, merely existing for the purpose of allowing her father to charm other kings. Or to get drunk. The princess had seen more than enough men drunk and boorish, well more so than usual, at these feasts. Her father had forced her to attend since she was just a child, and as a good and dutiful daughter, she went to each one of them, smiled and looked pretty before the guests, but inwardly seethed. The only thing that got her through the feasts was her serving boy, the beautiful and cheeky Johann._

"_More wine princess?" Johann asked, appearing behind her._

"_Better not," the princess sighed regretfully. "Sir Amister has already asked for my hand in marriage three times this evening. If I start to drink, I may never stop, and I dread to think what I might do while intoxicated."_

"_Like agreeing to marry Sir Amister?"_

"_Like agreeing to marry Sir Amister."_

"_You could at least dance," Johann suggested. "I heard that Kirin spent three weeks on this dress. The least you could do is take it out for a spin."_

"_I will not do that woman the satisfaction of dancing," the princess retorted. "She made it so that I can't actually breathe in it!" Johann smiled. "I'm not exaggerating, Johann. I think my ribs have collapsed in on themselves."_

_Johann shook his head, his lips twitching into a smile._

"_Who's that?" the princess asked, nodding towards the corner of the room where a young man was stood, leaning against the wall, looking around uninterestedly. "I've never seen him before."_

"_I'm not sure," Johann answered. "I don't think I've seen him before either."_

"_Maybe I should test out the dress," the princess said wickedly, a smirk spreading across her face as she stood up and smoothed down her dress. "How do I look?"_

"_Like some poor bastard spent three weeks putting your dress together."_

"_I'll take that as a compliment," the princess smiled, tossing her hair back and beginning to make her way over to the young man standing in the far corner of the room. Her strides were long and sashaying, or as long and sashaying as they could be while being restricted by the corset and skirt that came with the dress. She did look beautiful though. Being a princess wasn't always a good experience, but it did have its perks. The dresses were one of them. Having hot water on demand was another._

_Several hours before the feast began the royal attendants had scrubbed the princess clean of any microscopic dirt that might have been on her body from walking around her chambers. They had bathed her, covered her in scented oils and then forced her to sit in front of a vanity while they stuck three hundred pins into her head. After that the princess was practically stuffed into her dress, and then had to become accustomed to not being able to breathe before makeup was slathered over her face. Admittedly she did look gorgeous. Her dress was made from a soft, flowing silk the same rich, deep blue as the sky outside. Tiny gems were scattered across the full skirt and formed patterns on the bodice. Her skin was glowing and glittering in the candlelight, and the jewels that rested upon her chest were sure to catch the eyes of everyone in the immediate vicinity. Her wrists were decorated in bracelets and jewels, just like her fingers. Her heels clacked on the floor as she walked, and her dress swished about her ankles._

"_It's rude to stare, you know," the princess said to the young man as she reached him. He turned to look at her, his eyes boring into her._

"_What?"_

"_Could you be any more oblivious?" the princess rolled her eyes. "You've been staring at that wall for the past fifty minutes and as someone who grew up staring at these tapestries, I can quite safely say that there is absolutely nothing interesting about them."_

"_You're the princess?" the young man looked interested now, turning to face her._

"_I have a name, but you can call me the princess," the princess said. "And what's your name?"_

"_...Michael?" the young man answered, though it sounded more like a question._

"_Okay, what's your real name?"_

"_Xander," the young man sighed._

"_If you prefer, I could always called the rebel son," the princess said cheekily, watching amused as the son of the rebel leader looked at her in fear. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."_

"_On what conditions?" the young man, Xander, asked suspiciously._

"_Dance with me," the princess said sweetly._

"_You want me to dance with you?"_

"_Not particularly, but my father and I have an agreement about feasts. I have to dance with at least one man at each feast, lest he force me to marry some pig of a man; and quite frankly, you look the least drunk and boorish of all the drunken boors here."_

"_Is that meant to be a compliment?"  
_

"_It's the biggest one that you're going to get from me. Now, if you don't want me to tell the guards over there that you are in fact the son of the rebel leader, you will dance with me."_

"_Are you always this pushy?" Xander asked._

"_Of course. I have nothing better to do, so I might as well be pushy and irritating. Now, let's begin."_

_The princess held out her hand expectantly. Xander sighed but took it anyway and allowed the young and beautiful princess to lead him onto the dance floor. The minstrels that were playing picked up their instruments once more and began to strum artfully. Xander stood there, not knowing what to do and so with a roll of her eyes the princess seized his hands, placed one around her waist, and held the other loosely in hers. She began to move to the music, her lithe body moving in perfect harmony with the notes. Xander was uncomfortable at first, but the princess was in fact leading the dance, and so he only had to worry about stepping on her feet._

"_I think your father is watching," Xander whispered as he twirled the princess._

"_Let him," the princess smirked. "Probably the first time he's ever paid me any attention at one of these. I tell you what, why don't we give him something to really watch?"_

"_What!" Xander yelped. The princess just giggled._

"_I'm only joking! I could never do something like that with the son of the rebel leader. While I may disagree with pretty much everything my father says and does, even I can't assosisate with his enemy's son in a fit of rebellion."_

"_You-you really disagree with your father?"_

"_Oh please, the man's a psychopathic moron intent on destroying things and people! I am not. I love my people, they deserve a much better ruler than my father, but I can't do anything."_

"_What if you could?"_

_Xander was looking intensely at the princess now and they had slowed down so much that they were standing still in the middle of the dance floor._

"_You want me to help you take down my father." the princess breathed, looking at Xander from under her eyelashes. It wasn't a question. She wasn't stupid. While her father, her brother and pretty much everyone else she met thought that she was simply a brainless princess, there to look pretty and decorate the room with her smile, she was so much more. After spending hours in the library, escaping to foreign worlds and magical places that she could never see, the princess had trained her mind into a sharp and keen one, curiosity and determination driving her all the way. The words that the son of the rebel leader had spoken entered her mind and translated themselves into the message that hid beneath the original sentence._

"_I want you to help me right the wrongs done to this kingdom."_

"_By going against my own father?"_

"_Well, yes. But you said it yourself, this kingdom and its people deserve a ruler who will respect them, and care for them. With your father gone, it could be so!"_

"_And your father will make a better ruler?" the princess demanded, eyes flashing dangerously. "My father might be a terrible man, but yours is no better! He murders and pillages and causes harm to innocent people!"_

"_No, my father doesn't want the throne!"_

"_What, so you'd let my family keep the throne? We all know that my brother, the heir to the throne, is just as bad as my father! Who would you put on the throne?"_

"_You!"_

_The princess froze and looked at Xander suspiciously._

"_Me? I don't know anything about ruling a kingdom! And even if I did, the rebels would never let me take the throne!"_

"_How do you know?"_

"_I may be a princess, rebel, and I know you all think that I'm stupid, but I'm not! I know exactly what you people want, and you think that by telling me that I'll get the throne, I'll side with you!" Xander shifted nervously, eyes darting to the window, and it was then that everything dawned on the princess. The aim of Xander's trip to the feast hadn't been to convince her to betray her father, though it was tempting. Instead, they had come here for a reason, and that reason was about to be invaded by rebels. The princess stepped away from Xander, her heart racing. She found her hand moving itself up to her mouth as sobs escaped her lips. "What have you got planned?" she asked, not sure if she wanted an answer._

_Xander closed his eyes in regret and stepped closer to the princess. He stretched out a hand and caressed her face. His hands were calloused and cracked, so different to the perfectly smooth skin of the princess._

"_I'm sorry, princess, I really am!" Xander told her, raising his fingers to his lips. A loud whistle escaped his lips and a second later the glass in the windows smashed, dozens of dirty rebels bursting in while guest ran backwards, screaming. The princess stared, opened mouthed at the chaos. Every one of the rebels were heavily armed, and while the room was filled with some of the best knights in all of the realms, they were currently inebriated beyond any help._

_The King stood furiously, drawing his sword._

"_Get out of my banquet hall!" he roared. "At once!"_

"_Sorry your majesty," Xander said bitterly, stepping forward. "But I think you'll find that this is an end to your reign!"_

"_Actually, it isn't." The words had escaped the princess's lips before she could stop them. She didn't support her father in anything he did. He was, after all, a cruel and violent man, and he didn't care at all for his only daughter, just as the princess cared nought for her father. The people of the kingdom, their subjects, however, she did care about, and while her father was cruel to them, the princess wasn't convinced that the rebels would be any better. She found herself stepping forward, a discarded sword in her hand._

"_Oh please princess," Xander mocked. "Like you know how to use that!"_

"_What, just like how I don't know how to use these?" the princess challenged, a set of daggers in her hands only briefly. A second later they were flying through the air, and then they were embedded in the chests of two of the rebels who then collapsed to the floor. "I warned you earlier rebel. Never underestimate me. I'm far more clever than you realise, and I know how to handle a blade. Care to see if you can beat me?"_

"_Take her," Xander ordered. Everyone turned to look at him, and surprisingly (to everyone except the princess who was completely unsurprised by the matter) nobody spoke up._

"_I thought that you wanted to take the kingdom," the princess said, confused._

"_Maybe I found something worth more than this kingdom," Xander replied, a cold smirk on his face and he grasped the princess's upper arm and made a slashing movement with his arm._

_The last thing the princess saw before everything went black were the eyes of her captor. Gleaming green, cold and judgemental like those of a cat, but with hidden depths of pain and sorrow, Xander's eyes stared back at her._

"Mierda!" Eliza woke in a cold sweat, her neck hurting and a seatbelt digging into her bare arm.

"Language," her father warned, glancing at her in the rear view mirror. "You okay?" Eliza nodded.

"Fine, just, haven't had one that vivid in a while." Alex craned his neck around from his place in the front seat, to look concernedly at his younger sister. "Honestly, I'm fine. It wasn't that bad this time, just a bit of a shock to my system." Alex looked unconvinced and one of her father's eyebrows was still arched. Eliza needed to change the subject. "Why'd you let me fall asleep anyway?"

"You looked like you needed it," Alex answered. "You still looked shattered now."

"Oh, thanks!"

"Behave," Dad sighed, shaking his head. "You'd think that the pair of you were five, not thirteen and eleven. And Alex, stop fiddling with the windows." It was then that Eliza noticed the electric windows sliding up and down.

The Christmas break had been good for Eliza. In fact, when she thought about it, Hogwarts itself had been good for her. Even if she hadn't been a witch, she would have struggled to make friends at normal schools. At Hogwarts though, not only had she succeeded in several of her classes, but after a minor breakdown she had also found two truly good friends in Al and Scorpius. They understood her, and respected her. They knew her. It was tricky to find people like them, and even trickier to get them to like her. Together, they had helped her realise who she was, and who she wanted to be. And who she wanted to be, was not the person that she was. Who she wanted to be was herself, not a tired, angry little girl.

"Dad," Eliza said thoughtfully. "Have you ever had to solve riddles to find things in your work?"

"Sometimes," Dad replied as he turned right. "Why?"

"Well, Al Scorpius and I found this riddle, I was just wondering if you would be able to help me solve it."

"What is the riddle?" Alex asked curiously.

"My heart lies with that which always runs, but never walks, often murmurs but never talks," Eliza began. "In order to find its hiding place you must find he who comes out at night without being fetched, but in the day is lost without being stolen." Eliza took a deep breath and looked up to see the confusion on the faces of her father and brother. "Only the worthy will know to look half-way up the hill, for it is twilight, dim and vast, with smoking roofs, soft bells and gleaming lights."

"That is one hell of a riddle," Alex said, letting out a breath. "We have to answer riddles just to get back into the common room, but we've never had one that long winded."

"Maybe the answer is to break it down," Dad said thoughtfully. "That which always runs, but never walks, often murmurs but never talks, I think that might be a river. And the second part, who comes out at night without being fetched, but in the day is lost without being stolen is the moon." Eliza cocked her head to the side slightly. "The last part, I don't know about."

"How come you're so clever?" Eliza asked, a teasing complaint to her voice.

"What can I say, it's natural talent," Dad shrugged, a grin on his face. "At least you know where the pair of you got your talent and beauty from."

* * *

King's Cross train station was heaving as Albus Severus Potter pushed his trolley complete with trunk and owl through the bustling crowds. Ahead of him James was rushing ahead, and behind him strolled his parents, his younger sister clutching his father's hands. Al hated crowds, especially the ones in muggle train stations. Everyone was always so busy, and they were always so rude. Had Al been Eliza he might have stopped the seventh person who had bumped into him and made them apologise. But he was not and so he allowed them to get away with their terrible behaviour.

Al was looking around, trying to find a quicker route through the crowd when he saw her. Eliza. When they had left for the Christmas holidays Eliza had been dreading seeing her father again, but the girl that Al saw now was completely different. Bounding alongside a tall, muscular man with a mop of dark brown curls, deeply tanned skin and deep brown eyes was Eliza. Her curly hair was much shorter than it had been, now it was in a bob, and upon her head was a fur hat, just like the ones you got in Russia. She was wearing a green suede coat, a green top and jeans with the same pair of brown leather boots that she'd been wearing when they left. Her face was animated and she was gesturing wildly with one hand as the other was dragging a new suitcase behind her. Alex was on the other side of the man who was quite obviously their father. Wow, they really looked similar.

"Hey, Potter!" a voice from behind Al called out and Al turned to see Scorpius, dressed casually in jeans, striding alongside a tall and very beautiful woman who could only be his mother.

"Scorp!" Al grinned at his friend. "How was your holiday?"

"It was great!" Scorpius grinned. "Apart from, you know... But yeah, it was brilliant. Dad was actually home for once, and Mum wasn't rushing around trying to save three hundred different people's lives, so we could finally do something together."

"I said, I was sorry," the beautiful woman next to Scorpius sighed as they drew up beside them. Mrs Malfoy smiled kindly at Al. "Honestly, all he ever does is complain about how much Draco and I work. Does he do this to you at school too?"

"Mother!" Scorpius cried out, exasperated.

"What? I'm only talking to your little friend, Scorpius," Mrs Malfoy said innocently. "It's a pleasure to meet you Al. Scorpius hasn't shut up about you and the pretty Jewish girl since he got back. It's Al this, and Eliza that, and guess what we did that day, and then we did this, and now Al's this, and Eliza's going to be that... All the time! It's like having Rachel Berry in the room."

"Who?" Al asked, confused. Mrs Malfoy shook her head.

"Muggle reference. I'm sure the Jewish girl would get it. Don't worry about it." Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Come along then boys. The Hogwarts express leaves in a few minutes. We wouldn't want to be late, now would we?"

"Best not to argue," Scorpius advised. "My mother is a formidable woman, even on her off days. She likes to threaten people with various painful medical treatments too."

"I do not want to be on the bad side of your mother," Al muttered as they followed the willowy woman, with her flowing blonde hair, porcelain skin and gleaming blue eyes through the crowds. Heads turned as Mrs Malfoy walked, and Al and Scorpius hurried after her, Al's amazement at what a pretty face could do showing on _his _face. "Oh Eliza is going to _love _your mother!" Scorpius nodded, his eyes wide.

"Can you imagine Eliza in twenty years time? She'll be a man-eater!" Both boys shuddered at the thought.

"Hurry up boys," Mrs Malfoy called from ahead. She was at the barrier between platforms nine and ten, and then she was gone. Al and Scorpius sped up, hurtling forward until King's Cross vanished and Platform nine and three quarters appeared. The Hogwarts express was there, gleaming scarlet and black and billows of smoke created a hazy fog.

Mrs Malfoy was waiting for them when they got there, and with a swish of her wand, both of their trunks, and their owls floated off of the trolleys and into the train.

"Now," she said addressing both boys. "I hope you both have a wonderful time at Hogwarts this year. I'm sure that you'll be brilliant there. Scorpius darling, your father will write to you as soon as he gets home but he wanted me to tell you not to get into any trouble, and Al, have fun. And please, if at all possible, try to keep Scorpius out of trouble." Al grinned.

"I'll try Mrs Malfoy," he promised.

"Good."

Mrs Malfoy pulled Scorpius into a hug, kissed his forehead and then released him. To Al's surprise, she pulled him into a hug too.

"Have a good term boys," she smiled, nodding towards the train.

Al and Scorpius grinned at her before climbing onto the train.

"Your mum is so cool," Al said.

"So cool that she laughs at what my friends got me for Christmas," Scorpius shaking his head. "Thanks for the antique snitch by the way, it was awesome!"

"No problem," Al shrugged as they entered the compartment where their trunks and owls were. He knew how much Scorpius valued his snitch collection. "Thanks for the potions book. It was so much better than what Eliza got me."

"What did she get you?"

"Eliza got me a collection of hair products," Al sighed.

"You lucky bastard," Scorpius said disbelievingly. "Guess what she got _me!" _

"What did she get you?"

In answer to his question Scorpius clambered onto the seat of the carriage and reached up to his trunk upon the luggage rack. He opened it, rummaged through some clothes until he found a bright pink box and thrust it into Al's arms.

"A Barbie doll," he said blandly. "Eliza got me a Barbie doll for Christmas."

Al couldn't help it. He knew he shouldn't laugh, but it was too funny to see Scorpius's outraged expression, looking down at the pink box in fury. So Al laughed.

"It's not funny!"

"It is a little bit," Al snickered.

"What's a little bit?" a female voice asked. Al and Scorpius turned to the door to see Eliza stood there, a grin on her face, her new short hair blowing in the breeze that came from the doors in the corridor being open.

"The present you got Scorpius is a little bit funny," Al explained. Eliza pasted a fake hurt expression on her face.

"Only a little bit? I was hoping for full on hilarious! God, you two have no sense of humour!"

"I thought that the hair stuff was pretty funny," Al sighed, smiling despite himself.

"I just wanted the hair stuff," Scorpius added with a grin. "But it seems that you've had a change of mind about your hair. I though you loved it long."

"I do," Eliza sighed regretfully. "But my grandmother blackmailed me with clothes and bags." Eliza shook her head sadly. "I spent seven years growing it out." She fingered her hair wistfully. "Seven years, all wasted. By the way Al, your parents are looking for you. That arrogant prat you call your brother has been complaining very loudly about it."

Al groaned. Eliza smiled softly.

"Just go and say goodbye," she told him. "Everyone is staring at them. I'm pretty sure like fourteen people have asked your dad for an autograph already and your little sister is about this close to throwing a tantrum."

Al groaned again. His family was the most ridiculous, annoying, irritating thing on the planet.

"If I don't come back in five minutes, then I'm probably being arrested for strangling my brother," Al sighed, standing up. "I would be very glad if you would break me out, when that happens."

"No problem," Scorpius snickered. "We'll be watching out the window." Al considered flipping him off, but eventually decided against it and made his way out of the compartment and back onto the platform where his family was waiting.

"Nice disappearing trick!" James sneered as Al approached him. Al rolled his eyes.

"I was talking to Scorpius. And you've done it far more times than me. Remember last year, you made us wait until two minutes before the train left to say goodbye. _After_ you ran off to annoy that blonde girl, what was her name again? Claire wasn't it?"

"Cerys," James muttered. "Her name is Cerys."

"Right," Al said. "She's the one who is always flirting with Alex Leytii. I hear that she wrote to him _every _day this holiday!"

"Who did you hear that from?" James asked immediately, his eyes sharp.

"Alex Leytii's sister. Eliza reckons that Alex received no less than twenty three letters, all of them signed Cerys, kiss, kiss, _kiss_." Al couldn't help but let out a smirk. He was exaggerating slightly of course. Eliza had indeed written to him and mentioned Cerys and her extortionate amount of letters to Alex in passing, but they hadn't been sent every day. Just every other day. And the way she signed them had been a lie too. But James didn't need to know that.

"Get lost Al!"

"Bye Jamie," Al called out sweetly as James turned on his heel and marched away into the crowd. He turned back to his parents and hid a smile at their disapproving looks.

"There was no need for that Albus!" Mum snapped. Al tried not to roll his eyes.

"There was every need for that," he countered. "James needed knocking down a peg. Besides, he brought it upon himself. According to the grapevine, Cerys Nocsly can't stand James, and has her eyes firmly set on Alex Leytii."

"No need to look so smug, Al," Dad sighed. "I know you like to get one over on your brother, but try to keep it civil won't you? I've seen enough war in my time. I don't need one between you and your brother."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Al muttered under his breath. "Eliza said you were looking for me."

"Well, we did want to say goodbye before you vanish for six months," Mum said. Al rolled his eyes.

"Goodbye then," he said. "Can I go now? Scorpius and Eliza are likely to be talking about hair care or something similar and I should really nip it in the bud or all I'll hear for seven hours is conditioning spray. So, if you don't have anything to say to me, other than goodbye, I'll be off." Al raised an eyebrow challengingly. Irritation and resentment had welled up inside of him and his eyes had narrowed dangerously at his parents.

"Al," Dad said sternly. "We are your parents."

What an interesting word parent was. A parent looked after and cared for their child. They loved them. In those three months that Al had been at Hogwarts, he hadn't felt loved by them. There had been just one letter, and almost no one in his family had written or talked to him. It had taken Rose a long, and frankly cold, time to get over it. Al had played nice long enough. He was done with his family. It was time to be truly Slytherin.

"You weren't four months ago," Al said. "I'll write sometime in June. Don't hold your breath though." He flashed them a grin, raising his eyebrows briefly as he turned his back on them and made his way back to the train and the compartment where Scorpius and Eliza were making faces in the window. "Grow up."

"What happened?"

Scorpius and Eliza were by his side in mere seconds, guiding him into the middle seat, each of them turning their heads to look at him closely. Their faces looked strangely symmetrical as they peered at him from under their eyelashes.

"I think I just told my parents to stick it where the sun doesn't shine," Al said, trembling.

"Then we need to start plotting," Eliza smirked. "It's time to get our prank on. Tell me boys, who's our target?"

"The Gryffindor Quidditch team!" Scorpius grinned. "It's them against Hufflepuff next month. We were supposed to play, but Anthony cut a deal with the other houses. We cut down our practices, and they play the next match while we take the one in March. It's only three weeks away. We did a last minute funk for our match against Gryffindor, but there's no time like the present. Gryffindor are going down."

"I'm having a crisis and you are talking about sabotage!"

"Al, you think that I don't know how you're feeling?" Eliza asked gently. "Because I spent a year of my life pretending to be angry at my father."

"It was two years wasn't it?"

"I said that I spent a year _pretending. _I actually was pretty pissed for about a year. And trust me, you have much easier ways of working your anger out than I did back then. Some revenge on your brother may just be that way."

"You, Eliza - what's your middle name?"

"Miriam," Eliza replied, slightly bemused.

"Eliza Miriam Leytii, you are an evil woman," Al grinned wickedly, his eyes glinting.

"And proud of it, baby!"

"Oh Slytherin's been waiting for us!" Scorpius crowed.

The three first years looked at each other, identical smirks spreading across their faces.

* * *

Gryffindor tower was silent as Al approached. He was dressed in the Gryffindor uniform that Eliza had stolen from the laundry. Eliza and Scorpius were hidden under the invisibility cloak behind Al, eager and ready. On the train journey they had set their plan in motion. They knew what they were going to do, and they knew how they were going to do it. Eliza's deviousness really had no ends and the intricacies of Scorpius's plans were phenomenal. If they ever went into business together, the wizarding world would have to watch out.

"Potter!" the fat lady huffed as Al swaggered (Eliza had given him lessons) towards the portrait, a cocky grin on his face. "What are you doing out so late?"

"I had some business to attend to," Al answered easily. "Now, audax et fortis."

"I should let you sleep out there all night Potter. See how much you like it then!"

"Aw, but my dear lady, I you don't let me in, I'll have to stay out here _all _night, just singing! I heard this muggle song the other day; how did it go again? I know a song that'll get on your nerves, get on your nerves! I know a song that'll get on your nerves, and this is how it goes!"

Scorpius and Eliza winced and made a move to cover their ears. Al's singing was truly awful and honestly it was painful to listen to him.

"Hurry up!" Eliza hissed in Al's ear, moving forward. Al scowled slightly, and raised his voice even more.

"Alright! Alright!" the Fat Lady cried. "Just shut up and I'll let you in!"

"Thank you," Al said, smiling superficially.

The portrait swung open to reveal a hole in the wall. Al scrambled through, followed swiftly by Eliza, with Scorpius taking up the rear. Once they were inside Scorpius ripped off the invisibility cloak and the three first years turned to grin at each other.

"We all know what we're doing?" Scorpius asked.

"Carlisle, Cuoco and Roxy Weasley are mine," Eliza said immediately.

"O'Reiley and James are mine," Al nodded, eyes glinting.

"And I get the two beaters," Scorpius breathed. "Wands and sleeping powder at the ready?"

"Ready! Are we actually sure that it works?"

"Positive," Al confirmed. "This came from my uncles' shop. It'll work. Shall we begin?"

"We shall! Eliza, when you're done with the girls, we'll need you to do some of the enchantments for the boys. We don't want to risk things going wrong."

Eliza grinned and headed for the staircase that led to the girls' dorms. She disappeared up there and Al and Scorpius exchanged grins as they made their way quietly up the stairs to the boys' dorms. Their first stop was the second year dorm as both James and Freddie slept in there. Scorpius carefully pushed the door open and Al blew a handful of glittering golden dust into the room and watched as it floated into the tiniest corners of the room and settled there. The soft snores increased as the sleeping sand began to work its magic.

James's bed was as far away from the door as the room could allow. Instead of the double rooms that the Slytherins had, the Gryffindor boys' dorm had expanded to fit around twenty, twenty five boys. All of the boys were sound asleep but Al was still cautious as he made his way over to James. Freddie Weasley's bed was next to James and that was where Scorpius was headed.

The moment the two boys reached their destination the reached into the bags that they had slung across their shoulders. Inside each bag was an assortment of products, all from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and the two boys pulled their first item out of their bags.

Scorpius shook the can of Double Whip Colour Cream Hair Dye quickly before taking the cap off and covering Freddie Weasley's bright red hair in the thick, grass green coloured cream. Then he rummaged around in his bag for the twelve rubber snakes that Eliza was going to enchant when she was done with the girls before placing them randomly beneath Freddie's covers. Scorpius sprayed some false cobweb silly string on the inside of the red velvet hangings on the four poster bed and then began running cotton thread mere inches from the bed and Freddie's sleeping form. He only left Freddie's face clear of the cotton as Scorpius pulled a Sharpie pen from his pocket. According to Eliza, they were permanent markers and it would take a small miracle, or an awful lot of soap to get it off. Scorpius grinned as he began to doodle on Freddie's face. Eliza might be the artist among them, but both Scorpius and Al could quite successfully draw a Slytherin emblem on anybody's (in this case Freddie's, James's, O'Reiley's and Entwhistle's) face. He then grabbed the Grow Your Own Warts kit he'd gotten in a cracker at Christmas and opened it. Soon Freddie Weasley's arms and hands and face were covered in the little greenish splotches that appeared before the warts themselves. Scorpius then finished the cotton trailed off and turned to look at Al.

"You nearly done?" Al whispered. Scorpius nodded.

"I just need to pour on the honey and then cover the cotton in Clingfilm," he replied. "You?"

"Same," Al nodded. "Let's get this party started!"

"Wooky," Scorpius said. There was a loud crack and a house elf appeared in front of them wearing a tea towel toga embossed with the Hogwarts crest. "Do you have the honey?"

"Yes Master Scorpius," the house elf squeaked. He clicked his fingers and two massive buckets appeared in front of the boys. "I will be giving Mistress Eliza her honey now!" With that the house elf named Wooky vanished with the same loud crack that he'd appeared with.

"Let's rock and roll!" Al grinned. "It'll take the both of us to lift these things, so we'll do Freddie first, and then James. I can't wait until the morning!"

"Me either," Scorpius replied. "Come on!"

He and Al grasped the first bucket and made their way over to Freddie's bed. Carefully and slowly they poured the sticky sweet liquid over Freddie's sleeping form. Both boys snickered quietly as Freddie flinched in his sleep. Al tossed the roll of Clingfilm across to Scorpius who caught it easily. Together they wrapped Freddie in Clingfilm, leaving his face free of course. They then repeated their actions on James, and Scorpius sniggered rather rudely at what Al had done to his brother; true inspiration had gone into that.

"One last thing," Scorpius said as he stepped back to admire their work. With a wave of his wand and a muttered spell, the ears of both boys were switched with their bedside lamps. "Now we can get to work with the other two!"

Ten minutes later Scorpius heard the patter of feet making their way into the room and he dived under the bed.

"Scorpius," a female voice hissed. "I know you're in here. I can still see your robes." Scorpius pushed himself out, dusting off his robes as he stood up. He glanced at Eliza who was grinning evilly. "You put everything in place?"

"Sort of, I, er, need a hand with the honey," Scorpius said, embarrassed. Eliza raised an eyebrow.

"Wingardium Leviosa," she said clearly, flicking her wand and sending the honey soaring through the air to land delicately on Entwhistle's bulky form. "Do you need any help with the Clingfilm?" Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Tell you what, I'll just do it. Save your energy." Once again, Scorpius rolled his eyes and poked his tongue out at Eliza.

Soon, Eliza had everything perfect. The girl was a wonder when it came to charms. Her natural charm could probably do with improving though. Someone was bound to smack her at some point. She then pointed her wand at the covers and said: "Bedbide." Instantly the red covers began to wriggle as the rubber snakes became animated.

"These snakes won't bite will they?"

"Scorpius, they're rubber. They weren't made with teeth. Besides, they're only grass snakes anyway. It's not like we gave them cobras. That would be a step too far. Now, come on, we have to meet Al in the common room."

"You've done all the other charms?" Scorpius asked. Eliza nodded. "Impressive."

"There's a reason Costello wants me to take private lessons in Charms," she said, smiling smugly. "With her fourth years." Scorpius raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Oh yeah, I'm that good!"

"I knew there was a reason we kept you around," Scorpius grinned. Eliza flicked his forehead and raised her eyes daringly before racing Scorpius to the door. She beat him there, but only because she was closer.

They made their way down the stairs and into the common room where Al was waiting. Eliza grinned.

"All set," she said. "Let's get out of here!"

Al tossed the invisibility cloak to Scorpius who whirled it over himself and Eliza, paused and then ripped it off again.

"We shouldn't hide," he said. "We have nothing to be ashamed of."

Eliza nodded.

"He's right. You want to wind your brother up, then we should walk out of here, heads held high, and sit back and watch."

Al nodded.

"Alright. Let's rock!"

The three of them began walking out of the common room. Al pushed open the door and they climbed through the portrait hole. Scorpius was last out with Eliza in front of him, and Al before her. Identical smirks were on each of their faces as they strode out of the common room into the corridor. It wasn't until they reached the end of the corridor that they pulled the invisibility cloak over themselves and made their way back to their common room down in the dungeons.

Eventually they got there, gave the password to the wall and entered before pulling the invisibility cloak off of themselves.

"Well thank you boys," Eliza said smiling. "This evening has been a pleasure, but I'm afraid to say that I'll be retiring to my bed for now. I shall see you bright and early to witness our success. Ciao!" She winked at them, a beam upon her face, before making her way to her own dorm.

Al and Scorpius then proceeded to go to their room. Both of them crashed onto their beds and within seconds they were both fast asleep.

* * *

The next morning Al and Scorpius met with Eliza who was looking very pretty with her newly cut curls done in a 1920's flapper style, complete with silver band circling her head. Her white teeth gleamed in a perfectly innocent smile that just screamed wickedness. For once her uniform had no digressions and she had forgone her usually colourful earrings for elegant pearls. Eliza was bare of all makeup but it didn't matter, her beautiful face shining with excitement and her golden eyes sparkling. Inside Scorpius could tell that Eliza was practically bouncing on the inside, but she was more poised than the Gryffindors and so she sat calmly.

"Ready?" Eliza asked as they reached her. "I'd give it about ten minutes before they come running down, screaming!"

"Really Miss Leytii, you shouldn't take so much pleasure from other people's pain," Scorpius purred and Eliza smiled evilly.

"I can't help it Mr Malfoy," she shrugged. "I simply enjoy this kind of entertainment. It ranks right up there with the Ballet, or the West End, or Shakespeare."

"Okay, I only know what one of those things is," Al said. "But I have to agree with you. This is going to be brilliant!"

The three of them grinned and made to exit the common room. They arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast trembling with anticipation and took their seats at the end of the Slytherin table. Eliza immediately grabbed the last few pancakes from the large platter on the table and then proceeded to drown them in honey.

"Nice touch," Scorpius said approvingly. Eliza nodded, savouring the first bite of her pancakes. There was a loud crash outside the hall and the Slytherins all looked round. "This is it!"

Outside the hall two boys were tearing through the crowd of giggling students, horror apparent on their faces and clawing at their skin. Skin, which was covered in warts and Slytherin doodles. Every person at the Slytherin table burst into loud and obnoxiously laughter as James Potter and Freddie Weasley burst into the Great Hall. Over at the Ravenclaw table Alex Leytii and his friends burst into laughter too and they were soon joined by several other people at the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables.

Neither Al, Scorpius or Eliza were sure whose laughter had given the game away but none of them really cared. Their laughter seemed to lead the mocking and James and Freddie stormed up to them angrily.

"Fix this!" James demanded.

"Fix what?" Al asked innocently.

"You know what!" Freddie hissed furiously.

"I'm afraid we don't _know what," _Eliza countered smoothly.

"Even if we did," Scorpius added. "Why should we fix this?"

"Because if you don't then we'll report you to the misuse of magic office at the ministry," James said bitterly. "And they won't prosecute Al, and your father will probably get you off Scorpius, but she has no one to save her!" James gestured at Eliza. "And they'll look into all of her records. A good student but with nearly three hundred discrepancies in her first three months at Hogwarts. Add that to a mental health issue, and you might just find yourself expelled. So fix it!"

Al and Scorpius exchanged horrified looks as Eliza rose from her seat, eyes flashing angrily.

"Potter!" she hissed. "So you were right. We did it. And we're not sorry." She glared at him like he was something she had trodden in. "We won't fix this. There is nothing in the rules about playing pranks; and that's all that this is. So maybe we should fix this, but don't you _ever, ever _think that you can threaten me!"

"It wasn't a threat. It was a promise!" James vowed. Eliza shook her head, a nasty smile playing at her lips.

"Very well, let me make a promise in return. Your father might be the saviour of the wizarding world, but don't think for one second that I will ever hesitate to _destroy _you!"

"What is going on here!" a sharp voice asked. Professor Grant could spot trouble faster than any other teacher in the school and he was right behind them. Right behind him though were three more teachers. Quidel, Costello, Longbottom and Aizimio were all stood there looking very serious. "Leytii?"

"Nothing professor," Eliza said. "Potter and Weasley were just asking for my assistance in removing the charms placed on them in this prank."

"And why would they come to you?" Aizimio queried politely.

"Because as Professor Costello can tell you, my skill at Charms is unparalleled in the junior section of this school," Eliza answered easily, her face still stony. "Potter and Weasley can appreciate talent, even if they don't have it."

"Miss Leytii..." Quidel said reproachfully. Eliza shrugged.

"If I may, Professor," Longbottom spoke up. "Why doesn't Miss Leytii prove herself and her... talent to us, but removing the charms?"

"I must agree," Professor Aizimio agreed. Eliza shrugged once more.

"Finite Incantatem," she said, pointing her wand at first at Freddie and then at James. Instantly almost everything was reversed. Only the doodles on their faces and the warts were left. "There's nothing I can do about those. Poor hygiene trumps magic I'm afraid."

"Alright Miss Leytii," Quidel sighed. "I think you've proved your aptitude for Charms now. There's no need to be facetious."

"Sorry professor," Eliza apologised. Quidel sighed wearily.

"Go to your lessons, or the library, or whatever it is first years do when they're banned from the Great Hall until lunchtime," he instructed them. The five of them made to leave. "Not you Potter!" Both Al and James turned back to him. "The warty one," he sighed. "And you too Weasley. I want a word with you in my office. Wait there until I get back. If either of you isn't there then expect a world of pain. Am I clear?"

"Yes Professor," James and Freddie said resentfully before leaving. Al, Scorpius and Eliza all followed quickly.

"So, we have half an hour until we have to be outside Muggle Studies," Scorpius said conversationally. "And the library might have the information we need to put Highclere away for good. So what do you say?"

"I say we get that son of a bitch!"


End file.
